


Waiting to hear your name again

by destielsuperwholockbandhoorah



Series: Waiting to hear your name again [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Growing Up, Happy Ending, Kindergarten, Minor Character Death, SO MUCH FLUFF, it's not bad i promise, seperated and reunited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 04:04:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 55,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2567573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielsuperwholockbandhoorah/pseuds/destielsuperwholockbandhoorah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel were instant best friends in kindergarten, and quickly decided that they would be together forever. But of course, reality has to  interfere with their plans a little bit, and that forever is cut short as Cas is forced to move away. They grow up in different towns, the memories of the other growing faint but no less fond. Then Cas moves again.<br/>How will their lives pan out after that?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> These chapters are going to be pretty short for the majority. I sort of have a plan but it might change, and I might go back and change things. Enjoy!

Dean gripped tightly to his mother's hand as he walked into the classroom. She smiled down at him and readjusted his little baby brother on her hip.

"Don't worry sweetie. It will all be fine. I don't have to leave if you don't want me to."

Biting his lip, Dean looked away and mumbled, "I don't want you to leave mommy."

"Then I won't." She leaned down and pressed a kiss onto the soft top of her toddler's head.

Reassured, Dean looked around at the kindergarten classroom and the other kids. There were about ten at the moment, scattered around the room in various states, ranging from hysteria in one case to silent calmness in another. There were several parents as well, all of them attempting to get a child to let go of them. A father in a business suit was on the phone with a screaming child wrapped around his leg. Dean rolled his eyes. He wanted his mother but he knew he would never act like such a baby. Dean Winchester was strong.

The teacher came up to them, a smiling older woman, whom Dean immediately liked.

"Mrs. Mosley." Mary Winchester smiled at the woman.

"Nice to meet you." Mrs. Mosley smiled in return and looked down at Dean, who stared up at her with the expression on his face only toddlers seem to have perfected, a perfect mix of fascination and apathy.

"You must be Dean." The woman squatted down with a grunt to peer into his eyes.

He nodded, absently squeezing his mother's fingers a little.

"I think we're going to get on just fine." Mrs. Mosley addressed Dean, then stood up and began to speak to his mother about something. Dean tuned them out and stared around the room some more, examining the kids. The kid clinging onto her father had blonde hair and an angry face. Dean didn't like her, and grimaced looking away. She seemed mean.

There was a skinny quiet boy at one of the tables coloring. Dean slipped his hand from his mother's and walked over to him. Peering over the kids shoulder, he sniffed and said, “That’s pretty cool. What is it?”

The boy jumped a little and turned around, adjusting his glasses.

Glancing again at the gray and blue blob on the paper, the boy answered, "It’s a wolf. I like them."

Dean plopped down on the chair next to the boy and gave him a toothy smile. "Well it’s cool. I'm Dean."

He stuck out his hand to shake the boys. His dad said a good handshake was important.

The boy looked at it for a moment and then grabbed it with his marker covered one. "Hi Dean. ’M Garth."

Suddenly there was a red-orange blurred something, and Dean nearly fell off the chair.

"Garth!" The blob resolved itself into the form of a small fiery haired girl with a tooth missing and a baggy shirt with an odd picture on it Dean didn't recognize.

Garth looked too shocked to answer.

The girl sighed and grabbed Garth's hand, barely sparing Dean a glance.

"Charlie wait!" Dean heard Garth's gasp as he left and frowned a little. This Charlie girl was kinda rude.

She had dragged him over to the block pile, where they and two other girls, one with hair tied up into a blond ponytail and another with a mess to match Charlie's, were building something.

New friend dragged from him, Dean looked around again, the father had gotten the girl off him and left, and said child was sitting in a chair, face a terrifying mask just covering the rage that boiled out from under her perfectly curled hair. Dean resolved to stay far away from her.

There were a few other kids, two girls in the corner he had a bad feeling about, a fierce looking boy staring at his hands, a scared looking boy with a death grip on his mother's hand and tear tracks on his face, a rather big boy with his chin on his hands at a table, and lastly, one kid with long hair, who Dean couldn't tell was a girl or a boy, who seemed to be asleep on the table at the back of the room.  
His mother came over and ruffled his hair, ignoring his grunt of disapproval of her actions. "You all right sweetie?"

"Yeah mom." Dean stood up and gave her a hug. "You can go if you want. I'm okay."

She smiled down at him a little sadly. "You sure?"

He nodded and smiled big, beginning to get excited. He had always wanted to make friends, and though they were weird, he thought he could like Garth and Charlie and some of the others too.

She kissed his head and whispered to herself, "My baby's growing up." Eyes a little misty, Mary Winchester smiled again and hugged Dean with one arm, the other still holding Sam securely against her.

"You be good dear."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course mom."

"Love you."

Another toothy smile, "love you too mommy."

A minute later and she was gone, and Mrs. Mosley was clapping her hands and getting the attention of her brand new class.

"All right children. Time to begin. We're just missing..."

And with that the door to the classroom opened and an annoyed looking kindergartener walked in, closely followed by a frazzled looking man in an ugly sweater and a patchy beard.

"I'm so sorry," the man says, running his hand through his hair. "I was late and it's all my fault."

"It’s all right sir." Mrs. Mosley said kindly, and gestured, "Come in and bring in..."

"Castiel," the father says, glancing at his child.

Mrs. Mosley smiled and there were a few pleasantries exchanged that went straight over Dean's head. The father left and the boy, face now devoid of an expression, came in and looked around, as if he needed somewhere to sit. Dean saw the open seat next to him, and waved at the boy, smiling as big as he could.

The boy with the odd name saw him and Dean saw the beginnings of a grin as he came over and sat down in the chair next to him, swing his feet as he pushed the chair into the desk.

"I'm Dean," Dean said, sticking out a pudgy hand again for a handshake.

The boy stared at it, as if confused, and then carefully took it and held on. "I'm Castiel."

Dean bit his tongue and attempted it. "Cas- Castee- uh... Cas. I'm'onna call you Cas."

Looking amused, the boy said, "ok."

He still hadn't let go of Dean's hand and Dean looked down at it. He would protest, but... he liked holding Cas's hand. It was warm and not too sweaty and made him happy. He forgot about missing his mom and half listened to the teacher. Only half, because for the rest of the time he was talking to Cas, their disjointed children's sentences and bubbling laughter sounding out from the back of the room the whole rest of the school day.

At snack time, Dean and Cas skipped over to the table, grins on their faces, only letting go of each other to grab juice boxes and crackers and then wandering over to a spot on the carpet to enjoy their feast.

They traded snacks at one point, not really noticing or caring, and come naptime, Mrs. Mosley found them curled up next to each other on the floor, blankets overlapping and hands intertwined, the biggest smiles on their faces. She grinned to herself and picked a few crumbs off of the blankets and moved on.

When they woke up, she gathered them together in front of the big chair for a story, some simple thing about bunnies who found friendship. She imagined them as the two little new kids in the class, Castiel and Dean, and laughed to herself. She could already tell they would be inseparable. Then again, she did have a knack for these things.

When the day was over and the parents began to arrive to pick up their kids, Dean and Cas were playing With Charlie and Garth, as well as with the two other girls, who Dean learned were named Jo and Anna. His mother walked in to see him tackling a dark haired boy, both of them shrieking with laughter as they rolled around.

Dean saw her and scrambled up, dragging the boy with him, his whole face lit up.

"Did you have a good day sweetie?" She asked, already knowing the answer and smiling for it.

"YES!" Dean replied, and proceeded to tell her about his new friends, most especially Cas ("Cas is the best mom, can he come over some day?" "Of course Dean.")

But then, "it’s time to go home Dean," and she watched his face fall.

He turned to the bright eyed boy next to him, who had hair and an expression rendering him permanently looking confused, and squeezed his hand a little. "Bye Cas."

A note of sadness appeared in Cas's eyes. "Goodbye Dean."

Dean suddenly pulled his friend into a hug, smiling as it was returned. Eventually the two small children released each other, and Dean waved at Cas as he trailed after his mother. "Bye Cas! Bye bye!"

The boy waved, a huge smile spreading across his face. "See you tomorrow!"

They could hardly wait for tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so maybe I got excited and am posting the next chapter the next day. Hope it's satisfactory.

The next day was perhaps better than the first. In the morning, Dean was practically bouncing off the walls while his mother got ready, keeping up nonstop chatter about what he and his new best friend Cas were going to do that day.

Mary cut him off with a smile in the middle of list of toys they were going to play with.

“Dean sweetie, I know you’re excited but if you don’t calm down a little I’ll never get ready.”

After that, Dean held still for sure. He sat on his parents’ bed, lips pressed tightly together and eyes wide as his mother put on her makeup, only occasionally twitching with unrest and kicking his feet against the edge of the bed.

As they entered the classroom, Dean skipped ahead of his mother, who watched him fondly but called after him, “come say by to me Dean, I’m going to go if that’s alright.”

Dean spun around and raced back to her. She knelt down and caught the bouncing child in a tight hug. Dean plopped a wet kiss on her cheek and wiggled from her arms, running off to sit by Jo with a call of, “Bye Mommy, love you!”

AS she left the room, Mary saw a pair making their way to the room, a tired looking father being dragged by the hand by a determined looking kindergartener that she recognized.

“Hey Castiel,” she said with a pleasant glance at his father, who returned it wanly, “Dean’s inside waiting for you.”

The child’s eyes opened wide and he grinned, appearing to pull harder on his father.

“Just go,” the man said with a sigh, letting go, and the two adults watched the kid run to the door and slip inside.

Mary thought she heard a gleeful shout of, “Cas!” and with a smile and a wave to Castiel’s father, she left the school. She had left Sam with John that day, and was eager to spend some quiet(er) time with the two of them. She loved Dean to death, but sometimes he really was a handful.

 

 

Back in the classroom, the children were staring open mouthed at the odd shapes the teacher was drawing on the board that apparently were letters.

Dean bumped shoulders with Cas. “I don’t get it.”

“Me neither,” the dark haired boy whispered back and shrugged his tiny shoulders.

Dean laughed quietly and they both returned their attention to the teacher.

 

 

Charlie turned out to be not as rude as Dean had first had the impression of, but at least, if not more, spaztic. She always seemed to be doing something or saying something and Dean liked to listen. Charlie was really cool and knew a lot of stuff.

The symbol on her shirt from the first day was explained as she stared at him open mouthed.

“You’ve never seen Star Trek? But it’s like the best show ever!”

Dean’s doubts were rectified after a few hours at Charlie’s house in front of a TV. He didn’t understand it all, but it _was_ really cool.

She even let him borrow her shirt for a little while, and laughed with him as they talked about it in front of Cas. He never seemed to understand, and never seemed to watch anything.

 

 

“The…. s- no. The c-c-aaat….. isss….. on… the mat…..” Dean sounded out slowly, screwing up his face in concentration and making Cas laugh.

“You look like you ate a lemon, Dean!” the smaller boy giggled, only laughing more at his friend’s annoyed face.

Dean shoved the small book at him. “You read it then,” he said, sounding as if he believed he had won.

Cas stopped laughing and squinted at him. “Fine.” He took the book and stared at it, squinting at the words just as he had just looked at Dean. He flipped a page and sniffed. “Sam is a cat. The cat has-”

Dean snatched the book from him, scowling and mumbling about show offs.

Cas began to laugh again, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh too. Cas’s laugh as infectious, his smile seemed to make everyone around him (well, Dean mostly) happy.

Dean and Cas were the first ones in their class to read, thanks in no small part to their competitiveness, mixed, seemingly contradictorily, with their tendency to help each other.

They finished the book about Sam the cat on the mat and wandered off to the teacher to get another. Dean always complained about reading, but he didn’t mind nearly as much as he let on. It made Cas laugh when Dean pulled a grumpy face during “reading time” so maybe that was something.

 

 

“Hey Cas?” Dean said in a whisper, scooting a little closer to Cas.

“What?” Cas replied, rolling over under his blanket for naptime to look at Dean.

“Do you think we’ll be best friends forever?” Dean looked worried, and was biting his lip.

Cas made a confused face. “Of course Dean.”

Dean smiled and grabbed Cas’s hand. “Okay.”

“Shh!” Mrs. Mosley shushed them, and with a giggle, they complied, falling asleep hand in hand and waking up holding on to each other with the blankets tangled up by their feet.

 

“I have a question for you guys today,” Mrs. Mosely said, striding up in front of the room of tiny humans.

They stared at her, a few with fingers in mouths or noses, some mouths hanging open, some dribble coming from the side of one. Finally, Anna spoke up. “What’s the question Mrs. Mosely?”

Smiling, the teacher surveyed the primary blank faces in front of her. “What is love?”

The room was silent for a very long time, none of the five year olds knowing how to answer such a deep question. Mrs. Mosley looked as if that was what she had been expecting, and began to speak after a minute or so.

“How about a different question. What are the things we love? Everyone has to tell me one thing. Charlie, you start.”

The girl in question thought for a moment, and answered, “Television.”

“Alright.” The teacher nodded. “Jo, you next.”

“My mom.”

And so it continued.

“Pizza.”

“My cat.”

“Music.”

“Grandma”

“New dresses.”

“The park.”

“Candy.”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on Gordon, pick something.”

A scowling child remained mute, and Mrs. Mosley continued around the room with a suppressed sigh.

“I don’t know, but I know Mommy and Daddy love each other. They say so all the time.”

“My brother”

“My family and my mom’s pie,” was Dean’s proud answer.

The teacher looked to Cas next, who had a strangely stoic expression on his face. Cas looked up at her and said thoughtfully, “I love Dean.”

Dean looked at him and said without a second thought, “Oh yeah, I forgot to say I love Cas too.”

“But that’s what married people tell each other,” a confused Kevin said

“So?” answered Cas.

“ _So_ you and him aren’t married.”

“Well maybe we will be someday,” countered Dean.

Kevin just shrugged, and Mrs. Mosley, who had been watching the exchange carefully, continued.

“Do you think there are things people can’t love?” She asked.

“Broccoli,” was Jo’s prompt answer. Several kids giggled at that, and it induced a long list of things that the kids thought were gross or bad, ranging from boring movies to bad people and all the things kindergarteners don’t like.

“What about people?” Mrs. Mosley asked.

They couldn’t really think of much past bad people like murderers. Although Meg shouted “my grandma” from the back of the room, which earned her a cold look from the teacher that shut her mouth immediately.

 

 

At recess that day, Dean and Cas were playing in the sand, Dean dumping water from a cup he had filled up in the water fountain into it so they could build a castle. Castiel shaped the walls carefully and drew windows in with his slim fingers. Dean found little rocks to place on the towers, as well as a small leaf for a flag. He placed it in carefully and patted the sand next to him thoughtfully, smiling at Cas, who grinned gummily back.

That was when a smallish, boot-clad foot came crashing down and sent sand all over them. Dean spluttered at the sand in his mouth, which had been open to say something, and Cas stared horrified at where the castle used to be but now was only two feet. The sand was in his hair and down their shirts and on their eyelashes, but after Dean had finished spitting it from his mouth, neither seemed to care about much except their destroyed creation.

After the first few dazed moments, the two boys looked up to see a cruel face looking down at them.

“Whadya do that for, Gordon?!” Dean said indignantly, rising to his feet, though still shorter than the tall boy in front of him. Cas still seemed to be in shock.

Gordon shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Because you are a dummy. And I don’t like you.”

“You’re…” Dean struggled for a moment, “You’re a… dummy.”

Gordon rolled his eyes and stalked off. After watching him confusedly for a moment, Dean turned to Cas, who was blinking up at him, tears in his eyes. Dean knelt down and started to clumsily brush the sand from his best friend’s hair.

“Don’t cry Cas, it’s okay.”

“He broke our castle, Dean.” A single tear fell from Cas’s eye, and Dean wiped if off with the corner of Cas’s shirt.

“We can fix it.” Dean gave Cas a reassuring smile, though he rather wanted to cry too. But he had to be strong for Cas.

Cas smiled at him, sniffed, and nodded.

They worked in silence for a bit, patting and shaping the damp sand in front of them.

“When we grow up,” Cas began, biting the tip of his tongue in concentration as he built a wall, “we should live together in a castle just like this one.”

“Yeah!” Dean agreed, smiling some more. “And we can let all our friends come over sometimes, and not let anyone mean like Gordon come in. We can feed them to the crocodiles in the moat.”

Cas giggled. “And we’ll have cats and a guinea pig ‘cause I’ve always wanted a guinea pig but my dad always said no.”

“Yeah, we can get a guinea pig, Cas.” Dean brushed some more sand off his own face and turned a gritty smile on Cas. He wrinkled his nose, “but maybe not a cat ‘cause they make me sneeze.”

Cas thought about it, “that’s okay.”

They finished the castle and stepped back to admire their handiwork, keeping a lookout for others wanting to destroy their creation.

“It looks even awesomer than before,” Dean observed.

Cas nodded and kneeled down, dragging his finger through the sand around the castle. “There’s the moat. And here’s-” he pointed to a messily drawn shape, “-the front door where people can come in.”

Dean joined him on his knees and pointed at the smaller tower, “and here’s where they’ll stay.”

Cas pointed to the big tower. “And here’s our room.”

Dean nodded enthusiastically. “It’s got lots of fun toys and pretty pictures, and a nice soft carpet and a big comfy bed.”

“Are we gonna share a bed?” Cas asked.

Dean shrugged. “I guess so. Why not?”

Cas scratched his head. “I thought that only married people were allowed to share beds.”

“We can get married.” Dean stared at him.

Cas seemed to think for a moment. “We can’t get married. We’re only five.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Well duh, you dork. We’ll get married when we’re older.”

Cas smiled as wide as he could then. “Okay.”

 

 

That night, Dean told his mother that he and Cas were getting married when they grew up. Mary just smiled and shook her head, and said, “That’s nice dear.” She was glad Dean had such a good friend. And even if it was more than that, even at this age where they might not really know, well that was fine too.


	3. Chapter 3

The kids rushed at the chair Mrs. Mosley was settling into with a book in her hands.

“Story time!” a few shouted. All were excited, even Lilith, Meg and Ruby, the trio of scary girls who Dean avoided. Everyone liked it when Mrs. Mosley told a story. She did the voices even better than Dean’s mom, though Dean would never tell her that.

Cas and Dean plopped down next to each other, of course. They sat criss cross apple sauce, hands in their laps and legs crossed. Cas shuffled closer to Dean and shoved his knee under Dean’s, whispering quietly, “people who sit like this are destined to be married.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well it’s true. We’ll be together forever and stuff.”

Cas nodded, and then they both quieted down. The story was starting.

 

 

It was the end of school on a Friday, the one before winter break started. Mary Winchester came into the room and was greeted almost immediately by an armful of two boys. Over the past few months, Cas had come over a lot, and she was beginning to feel like she had three sons instead of just Sam and Dean. She didn’t mind at all.

“Hey boys, she laughed, pulling away and ruffling their hair, one with either hand. “How was school?”

“Good,” they chorused, swinging their entwined hands.

“Ready to go Dean?”

His smile shrunk and Mary felt sad inside. He hadn’t been too sad about going home since the first day, since school was always at the most a few days away. But now he knew there was no school for a few weeks, and it hurt her to see him so sad.

Dean turned to Cas, who had a sad little crease between his eyebrows.

“I am gonna miss you, Dean.” Dean hugged him tight, burying his little face in Cas’s shirt.

“I’m ‘onna miss you too,” he mumbled. Cas was leaving town with his father for the vacation, only coming back when school started, so Dean couldn’t see him until then.

“It’ll be okay, you two,” Mary put in kindly.

Dean turned to her with slightly reddened eyes. “No it won’t.”

She smiled sadly and took his sweaty hand. “It will. I promise. Now it is time to go.”

Dean turned worried eyes on Cas. “Bye Cas.”

Cas sniffed and waved a little. “See you after ‘cation, Dean.”

“Yeah.” And with that, Dean let himself be lead away, with many a backward glance at the small form waiting for his ever tardy father.

 

 

Castiel ran into class the first day in January and scanned the room. His face fell as he couldn’t find Dean, but went back to an even bigger smile as he heard a call of, “Cas!” behind him. Moments later, he had an armful of Dean, both of them grinning. Mrs. Mosley chuckled softly from her place at her desk.

 

 

Not long after that, it was Dean’ birthday. He was extremely excited to have a party this year and invite all of his friends, and insisted on planning everything himself. Mary and John went along with it mostly, but they did have to veto the parade and the fifty foot pie.

It turned out to be a very nice party. It was held at the Winchesters, and Cas, Charlie, Anna, Jo, Kevin, Benny, and Garth came.

They played hide and seek, and ran around the backyard shrieking as they played tag, tackling each other to the ground and bouncing back up again as only little kids do. They played a truly awful game of pin the tail on the donkey, awful because none of them really wore the blind fold, and seemed to think pinning the tail to the donkey’s face, random places on the wall, and each other was hilarious. They tried to play twister, but that pursuit ended quickly. They couldn’t reach and no one followed the rules.

At one point, Dean and Cas fell asleep on the floor in a pile of wrapping paper, big smiles on their faces, covered partially by smears of the cherry pie Dean had wanted instead of a cake.

Mary wasn’t sure if she had ever seen Dean quite this happy.

 

 

The second half of the year went much the same as the first. Cas and Dean were inseparable, a constant distraction, whispering in the back of the class, Gordon and Lilith were mean, and Charlie, Garth, Jo, and Anna were awesome. Cas and Dean were continually making plans about “when we’re married,” never really caring when someone told them that two boys didn’t get married.

“Me and Cas love each other and we’re best friends and we’re gonna be together forever,” Dean would tell them, “So stop being dumb. Of course we’re getting married.”

And Cas would smile and agree with him.

They read together a lot, Cas sometimes helping Dean, sometimes the other way around, and sometimes they were helping others. Also, Dean finally got Cas to watch Star Trek with him at Dean’s house, and the dark haired boy seemed to become even more involved with it than Dean was, if possible. Charlie and Dean shared in the triumph of turning Cas into nerd.

Dean came over to Cas’s house sometimes too, but not very often. Cas didn’t have a TV, and his dad always wanted them to be quiet so he could write. Plus Mr. Novak never made them awesome snacks like Mary did.

 

 

The day Sam took his first steps, Dean looked like he was going to burst with pride, telling anyone in his class who would listen how _his_ little brother was the smartest baby in the world, and how he was walking and before they knew it Sam would be talking and then going to college.

John laughed, watching Dean talk excitedly to Cas. “I thought stuff like that was supposed to be our job.”

Mary kissed his cheek with a laugh and bounced Sam on her knee. “It is. But it seems to me that Dean is growing up so fast. Before we know it, he’ll be off to college.” She smiled, vaguely echoing Dean’s word from before.

Dean overheard her. “Yeah,” he said animatedly, “me and Cas are gonna grow up and go to college and get married and live happily ever after! Right Cas?”

Cas responded with an enthusiastic nod and a glowing smile.

 

 

One day Dean asked Cas where his mother was. Cas’s face grew solemn and he replied, “she went away when I was a baby because she got really sick. Dada says she went to heaven.”

“It’s probably nice there.” Dean said, picking at the grass of his backyard.

“Yeah…” Cas sniffed.

“I bet she misses you,” Dean answered.

Cas looked away and shrugged noncomitically.

“Of course she does!” Dean exclaimed, throwing his arms around Cas, “you’re awesome. I miss you when I go home, and I even get to see you again after!”

That brought a smile to Cas’s lips, and he hugged Dean back.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“ ‘Course Cas.”

 

 

“What do you mean you’ve never had a burger?” Dean stared at Cas, mouth hanging open in shock.

They were sitting together at the kitchen table at the Winchesters at lunchtime on a Saturday, and Cas was staring dubiously at the sandwich on his plate.

Cas just wrinkled up his nose and sniffed the air momentarily, before crossing his arms and pouting up at Dean. “I don’t want it. Can I have a peanut butter and jelly instead?”

Dean set down his own burger, which he had already been most of the way through, wiped his greasy hands on his shirt, and contemplated his friend.

“My mom says you should try new stuff sometimes.”

No answer.

“Well, I think burgers are awesome.”

That did it. With a sigh and a look of resignation, Cas gingerly picked up the burger in front of him, closed his eyes, and took the smallest bite imaginable. Dean watched him closely, and broke out into a grin and Cas’s eyes widened with happy surprise, and he took another bite of the burger, so much that for a moment Dean wondered if he would choke.

“MmmmMmm- mm!” Cas said through a mouthful, grinning messily at Dean, who, with a triumphant smile of his own, picked up his burger again and proceeded to finish it off.

Several minutes later, after Cas finished with his monstrous bite, he wiped his mouth carefully with a napkin and said, with the most contended face, “these make me very happy, Dean.”

And one bite and another few minutes after that, “We’re going to have these every day when we’re married in the castle.”

“That sounds awesome, Cas.”

After that, Cas would always request burgers at Deans house. Apparently his Dad would never cook them, and the ones from the fast food place, “They’re just not as good as yours, Mrs. Winchester.”

 

 

The end of the school year came all too soon. The school put on a mini graduation for the children successfully completing their first year of school. They got felt hats and yarn tassels (which Dean complained about until Cas told him they looked cool) and got handed a little informal certificate as they walked across the classroom in front of the parents.

Mary came, and though she couldn’t drag John along as he claimed to be too busy at work, Sam had no choice, and the two of them sat proudly in the seat next to Chuck, Castiel’s father.

And Mary had most definitely not cornered Mr. Novak him a week earlier in the hall when Cas had told her he wasn’t planning on coming. Nope, not at all. She smiled smugly to herself, and cheered when Dean and Cas ran up to the teacher together, hand in hand, even though only Cas’s name had been called.

 

 

The two little boys had a tearful good bye the last day of school, clinging to each other and declaring that they wouldn’t go, which just made Mary roll her eyes, because they already had a playdate planned for the next day. She honestly considered filming it, but figured that would be mean. In the end, she only got them to let go with promises of pie and constant reminders that they would see each other the next day.

 _Honestly,_ Mary thought to herself with a fond smile and a rueful shake of her head, _these boys._

But she still let Dean run back and give Cas one last hug because the two of them were just too cute, and the smile on Dean’s face was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update: tomorrow?????  
> that might be too ambitious but I can try


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit short sorry, longer one coming tomorrow.

That summer, Dean and Castiel saw each other every day, or nearly every day. The days without were spent quietly and apathetically in both households, and Mary worried vaguely about her child’s and his friend’s codependency problems at some times. But it was a bright time, filled with play dates and sleepovers.

At Cas’s house more often than not, the two would sit outside where they wouldn’t bother Cas’s dad. Cas had a large tree in his yard that cast a thick cool shadow across the lawn for most of the day, and the two little boys would sit or lay sprawled out under the leaves in the dappled shade and talk or stare up at the sky. Sometimes they would run around or play or even read, but whatever it was didn’t matter that much to them. They were working on Cas’s dad about getting a treehouse. Eventually the hanging onto legs and begging and surprise gifts of mud pies would work on the tired man, Dean and Cas were sure of it. In lieu of that, a few times they dragged out a few chairs and draped a blanket over them to create a little fort. They called it their castle, and would often fall asleep inside of it, energy mellowed and melted by the heat.

Dean’s house tended to be louder. Much louder. Shrieking little boys ran down the hall, sometimes chasing each other, sometimes running from the monster that inhabited their imaginations on that particular day. They would play with Dean’s toys, like his cars and his train and his action figures, and often that would result in laughter, yelling, and the sometimes worrying crashes of toys emanating from Dean’s room. They liked to play with Sammy too, who was toddling speedily by the end of the summer, his head fuzzy with hair and the widest gummy smile on his face. He would chase the two older boys, who would laugh and pretend to run away and would fall onto the floor, often on top of each other, smiling to hear the laughter of baby Sam. A few times, John let them sit in the garage while he worked, and though Cas didn’t really seem interested in the cars, Dean sure was. So Dean watched the cars and Cas watched Dean.

If they were together, they were happy, and so the summer flew by, in a haze of laughter and sunshine and, honestly, quite a lot of pie.

The next school year came up fast, and Dean and Cas briefly agonized over whether or not they would be in the same class. How would life go on then, they wondered? But there was no need to fear, as they found both of their names on the same list at meet the teacher night. Yet another year was destined to be spent together.

The first day, they came into class, hand in hand, and found their seats, their assigned ones where name tags had been placed. They were across the room, and the teacher, a kind woman named Mrs. Harvelle, did not take too kindly to Dean attempting to switch his and Meg’s (who had been placed next to Cas) nametags. So they sat restlessly at separate tables attempting to listen to the teacher about shapes.

As first graders, they were now allowed on the normal playground instead of the kindergarten one, and that first day after lunch, they stood staring in awe at the (to them) monstrous slide.

“You go first.” Dean shoved Cas a little.

Cas resisted and took a step back. “No, you go.”

Worrying at his bottom lip, Dean poked Cas in the arm. “I’m scared.”

Cas looked confused. “We don’t have to go on the slide.”

“Yes we do!” Dean insisted, crossing his arms and kicking at the sand under his feet.

The two boys looked at each other a moment and nodded. Dean grabbed Cas’s hand and the two of them strode forward together, climbing awkwardly up the stairs and approaching the tall slide. Dean sat down and pulled Cas down in front of them, and they both pushed off, sending them down the slide together, a set of shrieks echoing through the plastic tube, and a giggling mess of first grader being dumped out of the other end. Neither of them were scared of the big kid slide after that, but they still would rather go with each other than alone.

 

 

For Cas’s birthday this year, Chuck actually let him have a party. Well, it was sort of a party. Dean (of course) and Charlie came over and played and ate cake (Dean only ate it for Cas, though he did let a few comments slip that pie would have been better) and gave presents and watched TV, and for once Chuck didn’t tell them to quiet down. It was fun.

 

 

Being the little kids that they were, Dean and Cas never expected anything to change. And honestly, neither did their parents. Everything was apple pie. But life always has to catch up to you and remind you that it is there.

And so it was on the day most of the way through the first half of the school year when John picked Dean and Cas up from school and took Cas home instead of over to Dean’s house like they had planned. There was an expression of defeat in his eyes than made neither of the boys question him when he pulled up in front of Cas’s house and walked the small dark haired boy up to the door.

Dean had given Cas a hug and waved from the car as Cas turned around before entering his house. When John had gotten back in the car, Dean opened his mouth to ask his father what was wrong, but thought better of it and shut his jaw with a light click. When Dad was like this, the only person he would talk to was their mom. Dean knew this all too well.

But when they got home, John didn’t disappear into the next room with Mary. Actually he didn’t do anything with Mary, because Mary wasn’t there.

And Dean hadn’t understood. Not at first anyways. He’d waited for her to come home from the store, from her friend’s house, from wherever she might be. He had waited so long, until he was sitting on the couch in total darkness with his eyelids drooping.

Dean woke up there, to the sound of his little brother crying. He tumbled off the couch, knowing his mom or dad would go comfort Sam or feed him or do what he needed, but wanting to help. But on his way to the nursery, Dean didn’t see either his mom or his dad. His cold bare feet shuffled down the silent hall, and the door of Sam’s room creaked softly, but no adult footsteps and no comforting words were heard.

Dean padded up to his brother and stuck a small pudgy hand through the bars of the crib where the one and a half year old sat crying. He patted Sam’s head lightly and whispered, “it’s okay Sammy.” His brother opened his eyes and bit clumsily at his lip.

“Mama.”

“I’ll get her,” Dean promised, and with a last pat to the kid’s head, he slipped out of the nursery and made his way to his parents’ room.

“Mom?” Dean whispered, peering through the door, just opened a crack.

No answer came, and so he pushed in and went to wake up Mary, wondering why she wasn’t getting up to go get Sam.

But them he stopped. The bed was empty, unslept in. Forgetting about being quiet in the morning, Dean called out to the house, “Dad? Mom?”

All he heard was a faint bang and a curse that came from the room next door, his mom and dad’s office.

So he left the bedroom to enter the office, opening the door with a faint, “mom?”

And all he found in there was his father with eyes red rimmed from crying and a mostly empty bottle of something foul in his hand, and some words that made him understand finally. Well, as best as a six year old can understand.

“She isn’t here. She’s gone Dean. She’s dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’M SORRY DON’T HATE ME IT HAD TO HAPPEN I’M SO SORRY THE CUTE WILL COME BACK I PROMISE


	5. Chapter 5

Life took an odd turn after that. Dean didn’t understand most of what happened. The one thing he was sure of was that his mom was gone and she was never coming back. He missed her more than he could even began to deal with at that age. He felt the loss keenly, and the only one who could make him feel even remotely better was Cas. His dad was constantly locked in his room, and he smelled horrible. Dean stayed away from him mostly. And Sammy was still practically a baby.

For the first week after, Cas’s dad picked Dean up and took him to school, with only a sad understanding smile and not a word. Cas never let go of his hand, and for once Mrs. Harvelle didn’t tell him to get back to his own seat. Dean was listless and unfocused in school. But he only cried once he was home, tucked up into his blankets at night waiting for a goodnight kiss and hug that would never come again.

Exactly a week after Mary died, Dean was sitting in his room with Cas, neither of them doing much, when they heard a door open and then slam closed loudly. There were heavy footsteps and some banging coming from the kitchen. Holding onto each other, Dean and Cas crept out and peeked around the corner to watch Dean’s dad going through the cupboards. For the first time in a week he wasn’t staggering, though he still smelled awful.

“Dad?”

John turned around and looked at Dean with a surprised expression. Then he glanced at Cas, almost like he had forgotten he was there, or even existed.

“We’re leaving, Dean. Your friend needs to go home.” He turned back to whatever he was doing.

Shuffling his feet, Dean asked, “Where are we going?” but he got no answer other than a mumble that may have been, “find them.”

Cas’s dad was coming to get him in a few minutes anyways, and so the two boys sat on the couch and watched Mr. Winchester make his way through the house, banging and grabbing and throwing things away and leaving other things discarded on the floor. When the doorbell rang, Dean opened the front door with a feeling of dread in his stomach.

Mr. Novak stared curiously past the boys at John in the background. But in his usual tired way, he said nothing about it, he simply smiled a little at Dean and asked Cas, “ready to go?”

Cas looked as if he wanted to say no, but instead turned to Dean and gave him a hug, squeezing as hard as he could.

“Goodbye, Dean.” Cas looked at him worriedly, with a quick glance at his apparently crazy father.

“See you tomorrow Cas.” Dean felt wrong about the words somehow.

Cas nodded and walked out the door, holding onto his father’s hand. He looked back one last time and Dean tried to smile at him, he really did. But he couldn’t. And then the door closed with a disturbing sense of finality.

After that, everything moved very fast. John piled some things into the back of their big black car, some of his things, some of Dean’s, some of Sam’s, none of Mary’s. Most of the pictures stayed on the walls, all of the dishes stayed in the cupboards, the fridge was still half full, and most of the boys’ toys stayed strewn across the floor. Dean hung onto a few toy cars, one of which Cas had given him, and made sure Sammy had his bear. He didn’t know what was going on, where they were going, and he didn’t know why, but he felt like he couldn’t leave anything that might be important.

And finally, Sam was strapped into his car seat and Dean was buckled into the car as well. As the car backed out of the garage, Dean hugged his knees to his chest and watched his father’s stony expression in the rearview mirror. Then he watched as his house shrunk into the distance.

Sam begun to cry a little, and Dean reached over, wiping his tears and then hanging onto his hand after. “It’s okay Sammy, don’t cry,” Dean told him in a whisper, feeling like he didn’t want his dad to hear him. “We’ll be okay.”

Even back then, he could tell it was a lie.

 

 

At first they didn’t go anywhere. They drove and drove, stopping for a few days or weeks at a time in places, staying in motel rooms that smelled weird, Dean always having to stay in the room alone and protect Sammy when John went out to “get dinner.” He knew that wasn’t where he went. Though he came back with food (most of the time) he took too long and he looked too tired.

Dean stopped questioning it after a while, stopped asking his dad where they were going, stopped trying to talk about his mother, stopped thinking about most of his friends and his old teachers. The person he never stopped thinking about and who he missed most, second only to his mom, was Cas. That look Cas gave him in the end began to haunt him, he would try to remember Cas laughing and could only conjure up that sad little backward glance, filled with more than perhaps either of them had understood.

John always seemed to be looking for something. He was always on the computer of pouring through a book, or staring at a map, mumbling to himself about things Dean didn’t understand. He might catch a “find them” or a “closer” or “fires” but he couldn’t string them together to make any sense of what John was looking for.

The months went by, Sam began speaking in full sentences, with the bright eyes of a toddler who doesn’t remember enough to miss it. Occasionally he would ask about his mom, but soon enough that stopped, and he would only stare at his father and brother’s sad faces with a slight expression of confusion.

Dean’s birthday passed without event that year, he hardly noticed it. No one, certainly not his father, was bothering to keep track of a calendar. What would be the point of knowing the date? And what would be the point of celebrating his birthday? Dad couldn’t make pie like mom could. He couldn’t have a party with Cas and Charlie and Garth and the rest. The only present he would get would be one from his father, and those were never good. After that first year, Dean kinda forgot about birthdays.

Dean went to more schools than he bothered to know how to count. The school year came to an end, and he could barely remember any of the schools, not the buildings or the kids or the teachers. Life was a blur of asphalt and ugly carpeting. He didn’t care about school anymore. He didn’t make friends, he didn’t play with anyone on the playground. He wouldn’t go down the big slide. He didn’t like to read anymore, he didn’t pay attention at story time, and if the school had naptime, he would refuse to go to sleep. He would sit at his desk with his head down to hide the tears that might escape. And eventually, he stopped crying. He still felt the loss, not only his mother now but also all of his friends, his home, his bed, his father’s smile. He didn’t feel like the same person anymore and so he didn’t act like the same person.

One school year blurred into the next, and then the next. Dean never brought home the report cards, he threw them away. And John didn’t really care about grades anyways. Dean never quite figured out where they got money. He figured his dad did odd jobs or something, maybe fixed cars. As he got older, he figured he knew, but stayed out of his father’s business for his own good. That business that never seemed to progress or get anywhere, and never made his dad anything but more obsessed and more angry and maybe a little more crazy.

 

 

The longest they stayed in one place was two months. It was when Dean was in fourth grade, and he had actually begun to feel a sense of normalcy, but in the end, that was taken from him too. They left in a rush one night, an odd look on John’s face that he didn’t respond when questioned about.

Sam started kindergarten the year Dean started fifth grade, and he loved it immediately. He was always talking about what he had learned or the new friends he had made that day. The first time they had switched schools that year, he was a bit disheartened, but adjusted. By the end of the school year, he was reading like mad, and Dean could muster up a few entirely honest smiles for his little brother. He was happy that Sam was happy, and proud of his brother. As Dean slipped out of caring about school and the like, Sam grew to love it. While Dean had memories, Sam had this. And he couldn’t really judge him for it.

Around middle school, Dean stopped scowling at the ground. He had noticed the sad or strange looks people gave him, and they made him angry, he wanted them to stop. So he perfected a mask, put on a cocky grin and a confident air that was exactly the opposite of how he felt. He made friends, temporary ones, and he found people who thought he was cool. He got respect from them, not love. And he told himself he didn’t care.

In high school, Dean donned his father’s leather jacket and became the king of every high school he came too. He cut classes, nearly failed a lot (not because he wasn’t smart, he totally was, it was because he didn’t care) and was kicked out of many a janitors closet, dragging a laughing girl or boy behind him.

It was when he was alone that Dean became himself again. He would let the self-assured expression slip from his face and sigh, long and tiredly. He would shrug off his leather jacket and drop it to the floor, stretching out on the motel bed of the night and stare at the ceiling with his head resting on his hands. Or he would sit on the floor and lean against the wall, running his fingers through his head and squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to shut out the memories. Or maybe he would find a kind old tree at the park and sit in its shade, digging his fingers into the cool dirt and smiling sadly.

Wherever he found himself, it was when he was alone, truly alone, that he let himself go and let himself remember. It was when he felt real again, like himself, like he could almost feel the bright eyed boy he used to be.

For some reason, he couldn’t let himself forget about his old life. He would tell himself that he was only hurting himself, that there was no point in remembering, that they had all forgotten about him a long, long time ago. He would shake his head in frustration and feel the pang through his heart as he remembered. He thought about Cas a lot, how kind he had been, how happy they had been and how it had felt to have a best friend.

He wanted that feeling back, but he didn’t know how. And he didn’t really want a new best friend. He wanted Cas back, and Charlie back, and Garth and Benny and all the rest of them. Sometimes he thought about what it would have been like if he hadn’t left, if there had been no odd fire at his mom’s workplace or if John had never decided he needed to get out. Dean wondered how he would have felt growing up, if he and Cas would have gotten the same teachers and been best friends fort the rest of their lives. Maybe they would have never stopped holding hands, and maybe they could have found their own castle, metaphorical or not.

But he often stopped himself there, berating his imagination for letting him get that far. Because after all, it was only his imagination. In real life there were no princes or castles or happily-ever-afters. No, for Dean Winchester there was only one night stands, empty promises, and shitty motel rooms. He was in a tired, endless hunt for a thing that he didn’t even know what it was. His life was in a rut that he fully expected never to escape.

Then again, he had thought that once before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have heart. Things will get better. <3


	6. Chapter 6

Castiel yelped loudly as his head hit the shelf and sent a cascade of boxes and papers raining all over his room and onto himself, falling down in the process. With a sigh and a grumble, Cas sat up and rubbed his head, shifting in the sea of old papers and wincing at the mess they had made in his normally tidy room. He grabbed the box they had fallen out of and set it off to the side so he could gather the papers and put them away. He shuffled together old essays with circled A’s, study sheets, a few photos, and several drawings before he saw something that made him freeze.

Setting what he had in his hands carefully down into the box beside him, Castiel grabbed the small stack of papers and got up to go sit cross legged on his bed. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and suppressed a yawn. It seemed he was always tired these days. Always too busy and distracted and never getting enough sleep. That’s what a few years in high school will do to a person, he supposed.

Castiel returned his attention to the three old papers in his hands. They were notes, written in an uncoordinated, sloppy hand with a marker. The paper felt a little stiff in his hands, and was just beginning to age. Castiel knew exactly what they were. He had almost forgotten that they existed, shoved away in that box in his closet. But he had never forgotten who they were about.

The first one was folded into uneven fourths, and Castiel opened it with shaky fingers, both fearing and anticipating what he remembered all too well.

“cAs,” the note read, in painful grammar and large, uneven handwriting, “how ar yoo? I wantd to ~~rit riht rry~~ giv yoo a leter cus yoo ar my best frend and I luv yoo. Yoo ar rily fun to play with and cool too. See yoo ~~tom tamor~~ later. Luv, DEAN. and also heer is a pichure of ar casle.”

Below the note was a crudely draw castle, depicted in fading tones of pink and blue and purple and green, with two stick figures in a window labeled, “Yoo” and “me”

Castiel laughed softly at his old friend’s atrocious spelling and the picture, and sniffed a little. He remembered the talk of castles. For so long after Dean was gone, Castiel kept expecting him to come back, to see him run into school and hug him and say, “I missed you so much Cas.” No one had called him Cas in so long, he had mostly didn’t even remember how it felt. And he’d never really stopped expecting it, though he had forgotten the sound of Dean’s voice and his laughter. And to Castiel, that was one of the worst losses of all. Dean’s laughter had lit up the entire room and Castiel couldn’t ever remember being as happy as he had been when he had been friends with Dean.

Shaking his head to clear it of the thoughts, Castiel moved on to look at the next note. It was folded into a neat half, and Castiel opened it as carefully as the last one. This one was different, written in a more controlled script, though still childlike. Castiel remembered writing this one. He began to read.

“Dean. Were did you go? I miss you a lot and scool is sad. Charlie and our frends miss you too but I miss you the most. I wish you were back cus I want to hug you and marrie you. I dont caer if ther is no casle. I just want you back. Plees come home. Love Cas.”

Castiel had tried to get his dad to mail it to Dean, and had cried for an hour at least when his dad told him he couldn’t. Even now, Castiel could see how the paper was crumpled slightly, and where the marker had smeared as it was clutched in Cas’s hands. There were a few trails of tears as well.

A new tear came to join the old, and Cas wiped at his face angrily, sniffing hard and setting the note aside. He didn’t want to ruin it. It was one of the only things he had left. It took longer to collect himself this time. But he knew he had to read the last one. He didn’t know why, but he had to make himself. A decade old friendship shouldn’t hurt this bad.

The last paper was folded in half like the other one, and a little bit sticky. Cas pulled it apart and scanned the page.

“Dean. You left a long time ago and dad says I need to make new friends. I still talk to Charlie, and we miss you. I made a sand castle the other day. But Gordon didn’t smash it. He doesn’t care anymore now that I am alone. I wish I could sent you my letters. I miss you. I think I still love you. Castiel.”

Rubbing at his temples, Castiel gathered the letters and set them on his shelf, not wanting to lose them in the mess he still had to clean up. It took him a while to muster up the resolve to get off of his bed, but eventually he did, and began to throw the papers in the box, no longer caring about their organization. He just wanted to go to sleep now. Too many old memories had resurfaced that day. And though they were happy, they still made him sad. At one point during the cleaning up process, he found an old Polaroid of him and Dean, and made sure to hold it away from him as he pinned it too his bulletin board, lest the few tears that managed to escape would ruin all he had left of his best friend.

 

 

“Where’s Dad?” Sam asked nonchalantly from where his scrawny twelve year old body was sprawled across the couch. He threw a handful of chip in his mouth as he watched Dean for an answer. His older brother just shrugged, and continued examining his fingernails, the boredom evident on his face.

“Dean…” Sam complained, wadding up the now empty chip bag and lobbing it at his brother’s head.

It bounced off of Dean’s head, and he sighed and looked at his petulant little brother. “I don’t know, okay, he said he’d be back by today but he isn’t and I don’t know where he is. Happy?”

Sam pursed his lips. “Fine, Jerk.”

“Bitch,” came the automatic reply, with an added, “pick up your dumb trash.”

Sam began grumbling about something Dean was pretty sure he shouldn’t have the vocabulary for, but got up and threw the plastic bag away from where it had rolled to after hitting Dean’s head.

They sat in a bored, vaguely irritated silence for a while, before they heard a familiar roar outside the motel. Sam sat up and Dean glanced at the window briefly. They both sat and waited.

They key clicked in the lock and a tired, grim looking man pushed the door open and stepped wearily inside.

“Hey Dad,” Sam said, sounding a bit unconfident.

With a grunt and a nod at the two brothers, John stomped out of his boots and wandered to the bathroom after grabbing a change of clothes, a not so faint bad smell trailing after him. The water started for a shower, and Sam and Dean looked away from the door at last. Sam picked up a book and turned to his page in it, and Dean readjusted in the bed, planning on taking a nap.

After roughly fifteen minutes, the bathroom door banged open, starting Dean awake, and John came out, looking and smelling considerably better than before. But he still wore a tired, haggard look in his eyes, and his jaw was unshaved for what appeared to be a week or so. He dropped his dirty clothes in his duffel bag and said the words they heard so often.

“Time to move on boys.”

With two sighs of varying degrees of enthusiasm, the brothers got up from their respective lounges and began to clean up the room, shoving stray socks and other items into their bags. Something hard poked Dean’s hand in his bag, and he pulled it out. With a faint feeling of shock, he recognized the small black toy car, the one Cas had given to Dean because Dean liked it so much and it reminded him of his dad’s car.

“Dean, what are you doing?” Sam asked curiously, pausing to look at his older brother.

Realizing he had been standing there staring at the car in his hand, Dean shook himself just slightly and crammed the toy back into the bottom of the bag. “Mind your own business, bitch.”

Sam mumbled out a halfhearted, “jerk,” and they continued to pack, finishing soon and piling back into the black car, John’s 1967 Chevrolet Impala.

A few minutes into the drive, Sam spoke up again from the back seat. “Where are we going this time, Dad?”

Pausing a moment, as if contemplating not telling him, John answered eventually. “To see an old friend of mine. Bobby Singer.”

That made Dean start to pay attention. “You mean the Bobby that we used to visit in the town over?”

There was an affirmative noise from his father, and Dean sat back to think about it. He remembered visiting Bobby with their mom, and a little bit with Sam as a baby. He wouldn’t remember Bobby’s house though. Dean had liked Bobby when he was a kid. He was kind, and fun and played with Dean, as his father still hadn’t really done even back then. Why in the world would they be going back to see him? John hadn’t gone near anything that would remind him of Mary, hadn’t even gone back to the same state, so why now? What had changed?

But Dean knew better than to question his father. If he wanted them to know, he told them, and no amount of questioning or pestering would break him. It only made him angry and annoyed, and he ended up telling them less about what was going on and where they were going the next time. So Dean had stopped bothering him about it a long time ago.

Though it seemed Sam hadn’t quite gotten the memo yet.

“Why are we going there? Is he your friend? How long are we staying?” his curious little moose face stuck out from the back seat, an open and honest curiosity on it.

“I don’t know.” John said, surprising Dean a little with an answer that was more than a grunt or an “I’ll tell you boys about it later.”

Dean wondered a little if John was answering all three questions with that simple “I don’t know.” He assumed he would find out, and was actually a little excited for this. It felt less like they were running away and he wanted that more than he cared to admit. It also frightened him. He had been running away his whole life, and even with this tiny insignificant step forward, it felt like it was going to change more than he was ready for.

After a bit, John added quietly one last comment that confused the two of them.

“Almost there.” He whispered, staring hard at the road, jaw set and fingers holding tightly to the steering wheel. Dean and Sam looked at each other, confused. They were hours and hours from their destination, why would their dad possibly be saying that? They didn’t ask and he didn’t tell.

They drove for a while, but they managed the trip in one day, since they hadn’t been too far away at the time. They pulled into the town, and Dean got a disturbing sense of déjà vu, the town looked very similar to where they had lived, before.

They pulled past the school Dean assumed he would be going to, attached to the middle school where Sam would go. Sam looked excited, the little nerd, and Dean scrunched down further in his seat as the car wound its way through too pleasant neighborhoods. Soon enough, they came to the rougher area, and ground to a halt in front of an old sign that read, “Singer salvage yard.”

“We’re here boys,” said John with an uncharacteristic smile, which Dean knew was fake (from his many years of experience pulling the exact same thing).

They piled out of the car, and Dean noticed that John didn’t grab his bag. He felt an odd, uncomfortable prediction pooling in his stomach as they approached the door and rang the bell. The door opened to reveal a slightly greasy older man in a worn cap and a faded plaid shirt. Him and John stared at each other a minute. Dean assumed this was Bobby. He had a faint feeling of recognition of the figure in front of him.

“John.” Bobby said carefully, eyeing the other man up and down for a moment, as if suspicious.

“Bobby,” John answered gruffly, and motioned. “Can we come in?”

Bobby said nothing for a moment, then nodded and stepped aside, allowing the three of them to shuffle inside. Dean and Sam shifted their packs on their shoulders and glanced at each other. Now both of them knew for sure what was going on.

The adults disappeared into an office for a few minutes, and there was an instance or two of raised voices from the men, they couldn’t tell which. But in the end, John came out, shook Bobby’s hand, gave Sam a brief hug, and slapped Dean on the shoulder in passing, giving them each a short and unemotional “Goodbye.”

Dean could tell Sam wanted to say so many things, and Dean did as well. But as they watched John walk out and shut the door behind him (in a scenario that was painfully parallel to something Dean had already experienced) Sam said nothing, and Dean figured that maybe his little brother was learning after all. He wished he hadn’t. He wanted Sam to ask John where he was going and when he’d be back and what was going to happen. But all he got was the resounding sound of a closing door echoing in the unfamiliar house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost there


	7. Chapter 7

“What do you mean we’re moving?” Castiel stared at his father with his mouth hanging open in surprise.

“I mean we’re moving.” Chuck said tiredly. “The publishers want me ‘more conveniently placed’ or something so we’re going.”

Castiel resisted his urge to roll his eyes or perhaps something more drastic such as punching a wall. It would get him nowhere. So he turned with a sigh and went back to his room to begin packing.

He didn’t want to leave. He had lived here his whole life. This is where his mom had lived, for a short time at least. This is where Dean had come over, that tree in the backyard was where he spent so much time, and where he and Dean had almost gotten Castiel’s dad to put in a little treehouse. His life was here, from the scuff marks on the walls to the paint stains on his carpet from an interesting art project one year with Dean. He didn’t want to leave, he didn’t want to lose this, to lose more of Dean and his mother and everything else than he already had.

His father came into his room to find Castiel face first down in the bed.

“It shouldn’t be too bad,” he said tentatively. “We’ll get there just before the new school year starts, and it’s not too far, you can come back and visit your friends sometimes.”

Castiel didn’t answer, and his father left as quietly as he could to go collect himself. He didn’t want to leave either. This place was full of memories, most of all ones of Castiel’s mother. But maybe it would be good to get away from it, he told himself. A fresh start was what they needed after all this time.

 

 

“I’m not going.” Dean’s answer was final, and though he knew he sounded like the petulant teenager that he was, he didn’t really care at the moment.

Sam rolled his eyes. “And I thought I was supposed to be the younger brother.”

“Shut up, Sam.”

Sam didn’t grace him with a response. He just narrowed his eyes and hooked his thumbs into the straps of his backpack. “If you don’t go I’m not going.”

Dean scowled at his little brother, knowing he had lost this fight but unwilling to give up at that moment. “You have to go to school, Sam. Stop letting me drag you down.”

Sam pulled one of his better bitchfaces. “You have to go to school too, Dean. You only have a year left. You can’t quit now. What I said stands. I’m not going without you.”

At this Dean got up and stomped out of his bedroom, where they had been, leaving a confused little brother behind. But a few moments later, Sam heard car door slam and an annoyed voice calling, “you coming bitch?”

With a grin, Sam ran out to the garage where Dean was waiting in one of Bobby’s cars, yelling back, “Jerk!”

 

 

It was already about a month into the school year here so they hadn’t really missed much, but getting into the swing of things would be a bit difficult. Though they had a lot of practice, and it wasn’t like Dean was planning on trying very hard anyways.

He dropped Sam off at the middle school (which started at the same time as the high school) where he was an eighth grader, and then drove himself over to the high school, parking in a random spot and then making his way to the office with his nearly empty backpack slung over one shoulder.

It took them forever to get him sorted out, the transcripts hadn’t come through right of whatever and they didn’t have his father’s contact information (of course), so Dean spent a long time slumped in an uncomfortable office chair, staring at the plain and rather ugly walls why he tried not to get bored out of his mind. He was generally unsuccessful at that, and was just considering leaving when the secretary came out and told him that they had his schedule ready.

With an exaggerated sigh, Dean stood up, plastered on his mask and took the schedule with a wink.

“Find your sixth hour,” the woman said, with a disapproving look at him. “Don’t dawdle.”

Dean tried not to laugh at her word choice, and didn’t quite managing, earning him another backwards scowl from the grouchy secretary. He shrugged it off. Then he strode out of the office into then school, glancing around and trying to figure out where the hell he should be. His third hour was in room 605, and once he located the 600 building, he set off to greet his next version of hell. Nothing like an economics class to start the day. Oh, joy.

 

 

Castiel suppressed a yawn as the teacher droned on about something he probably already knew. This class was required for graduation, but it was immeasurably boring, and Castiel had stopped trying to be interested long ago, even though school had only started about four weeks ago.

He was rubbing his eyes as the door to the classroom opened, causing everyone’s heads to turn and look at whatever was new. They welcomed any distraction, and this one surely did not disappoint.

Even the teacher stopped talking, and turned to look at the boy in the doorway. He wore the slightly ruffled, a bit angry expression that all teachers seem to get when they are about to say, “Why are you interrupting my class?”

The boy in the door walked into the classroom confidently, surveying the classroom quickly. Castiel imagined for a moment that the boy’s eyes had caught on him, but hurriedly brushed the notion away.

“I’m a new student,” he said, and Castiel couldn’t drag his eyes away.

“Right,” the teacher drawled, “show me your schedule.”

With an exaggerated eye roll directed to the class, making a few people laugh, the boy strode up and handed the teacher the small sheet of yellow paper with his official schedule on it. He looked bored as it was read and handed back.

The teacher nodded tiredly. “Right then, Dean, find a seat.”

The name twisted something in Castiel’s gut, an odd reminder that he knew he would not welcome for the rest of the school year.

The boy was scanning the room for a seat, and Castiel glanced around a moment too. There was a few empty seats, including one next to him. He caught the boy’s eye and shrugged, flicking his eyes to the seat in a form of invitation. He wasn’t sure why he did it, it just felt like he should.

The boy, Dean, raised his eyebrows and twitched the corner of his mouth up into a smile. And then he came down the row of seats and sat down heavily in the one next to Castiel, throwing him a surveying glance, as if trying to figure something out.

A minute later, the teacher (who Castiel was pretty sure he had forgotten the name of) told the class to get in partners and discuss, a sentence that made Castiel cringe, as he neither had friends nor liked discussing.

But his usual decision to stare at his desk and do nothing was taken from him and an almost familiar voice beside him said, “Hey kid, want to be partners?”

Cas looked up in surprise to see the new boy looking at him curiously with wide, green eyes.

“Okay,” he said tentatively.

“I’m Dean,” the boy said, sticking out his hand. There was something so familiar about it, but Cas pushed the feeling away.

“Castiel,” he answered, and watched in confusion as the boy froze, his eyes widening and his mouth falling open.

“Are you alright?” Castiel asked, his fingers, still clasped in Dean’s, twitching slightly.

“Castiel,” Dean repeated, still staring.

“Yeah?” Castiel was so confused. What was wrong with this boy? Unless…. No. could it be?

“Did you,” Dean started, then swallowed and started again. “Did you happen to live in the town over by chance a long time ago?”

Castiel’s mouth was dry. “Mrs. Mosley’s kindergarten class?”

“And Mrs. Harvelle’s first grade,” Dean finished.

“Oh my god.” Cas stared at the boy sitting in front of him, all the memories rushing over him and threatening to drown him.

“I know,” Dean looked as thunderstruck as Cas felt.

He could see it now, in Dean’s face, the traces of the little boy in the picture on his bulletin board. The bright, inquisitive green eyes, the sharp jaw that used to be hidden by toddler pudge, the galaxy of freckles spanning his face, the unruly mess of honey brown hair on his head. The feel of his hand in Cas’s.

Someone cleared their throat, and the two teenagers looked over to see the teacher glaring at them. They dropped each other’s hands, and a blush came slightly over both of their faces. But they didn’t look away from each other.

“I can’t believe it’s you, Cas” Dean said, looking at his old friend like he would disappear any moment.

“Tell me about it,” Cas answered. “I thought I’d never see you again. Where did you go?”

At this, Dean down in shame, wringing his hand lightly. All traces of the cocky boy that had masked Cas’s childhood friend at first were gone from him. “It’s a long story.”

“I want to know.”

Dean nodded and smiled sadly up at Cas. “Then I’ll tell you.”

The bell rang, and they both groaned in frustration.

“Let me see your schedule,” Cas demanded, “we might have another class together.”

Dean handed it over and Cas scanned it quickly, as students filed from the room.

“We have lunch together, but that already happened.” Cas concluded, looking back up from the schedule at Dean. “I guess I can talk to you tomorrow?” he worried at his lip, suddenly a bit embarrassed at sounding needy.

Dean thought for a second. “Yeah, we could, but I have a better Idea.”

Cas scrambled to his last class with a giant grin on his face and a phone number burning a hole in his pocket.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean walked back to his car after school, still feeling a bit shell shocked. This still didn’t feel real, it felt like a dream, like at any moment he could wake up in some awful motel room having never seen those familiar blue eyes and never having been reunited with his now beautiful best friend. He was so distracted by it that he nearly tripped over the curb in the parking lot, stumbling a bit but righting himself quickly. He glanced around but figured no one had seen him, and continued on until he was leaning his head against the cool glass of Bobby’s old pickup truck that he had let Dean borrow.

Since the middle school was right next door, Sam was going to walk over so that they didn’t have to deal with two parking lots. That meant Dean had a few minutes on his own to collect himself and remember how to act normal again so his brother wouldn’t suspect anything.

Dean let his thoughts turn to Cas. The old memories were a little fuzzy, no matter how good of friends they had been, time still took its toll. Dean remembered how for so long, he had tried to forget the expression on Cas’s face as he had left Dean’s house so many years ago. And then a one point, Dean had realized he had forgotten. That’s when he knew he would give anything to remember it.

But now that didn’t matter. Because that wasn’t the last time he had seen Cas. That memory was new and vibrant, his face, his smile, his laugh, all resonating behind Dean’s eyelids and filling up his mind. He had never really cared what Cas looked like as a kid, but now, Dean felt oddly plain next to him, like he had no light of his own.

Cas hadn’t at first, Dean realized. He had just been a pretty face Dean had considered from in front of the room. But when he had recognized Dean, there had been an unidentifiable sadness that lifted from him, like a shadow being pulled away to let the purest light shine through.

Dean groaned at slapped himself in the forehead. When did he become this metaphorical? He’d basically just met the guy, right? Did knowing him for a year and a half as little kids count? How much did Cas remember? Did he want to be friends with Dean? How distracting would those eyes get? …

It was with this flood of questions running through his mind that Sam found him. He watched his brother stand there leaning against the car with his hand clapped over his eyes for a minute before he decided it was time to interrupt whatever was going on.

“Dean.”

Dean jumped and looked around briefly with a surprised expression before spotting Sam and relaxing fractionally. “Hey Sam. Ready to go?”

Sam walked over to the car and climbed in the passenger door as an answer. Dean got in as well, and once they had been driving a bit, Sam piped up.

“What’s with you today?”

“What?”

Sam sighed. So that would be Dean’s tactic of the day. “You’re either really happy or even more depressed as usual. I can’t really tell and honestly it’s worrying me.”

Dean looked surprised. “I dunno.”

Sam decided it was best not to push it. Dean looked as if he was still trying to figure it out. He hadn’t been immediately shot down, and for his brother, Sam supposed, that was progress.

After a few minutes, Dean began to smile because, yeah, there was a whole lot of crap, but he had just run into Castiel. Whatever happened, he had gotten to see him again, gotten to see him smile.

“What are you grinning about?”

“Shut up, Sam.”

Sam was about to retort, but just then Dean’s phone rang. He looked down at it where it sat next to him on the seat, and picked it up, driving with one hand. The number was not one he recognized.

“Hello?” he answered the phone.

“Um... hello? Dean?”

He knew that voice. “Cas?”

“Who’s Cas?” Sam looked over curiously from the passenger seat.

“Who’s that?” Cas asked.

Dean figured he would answer Cas and not his brother. “I’m in the car with my brother.”

“Oh sorry! I don’t want to distract you while you are driving. I’ll call back.”

“No, it’s fine, I can talk-”

Dean was cut off as Sam snatched the phone from his hand. “You shouldn’t talk on the phone and drive, Dean,” he said mischievously. Then, into the phone, “Hello. I’m Dean’s brother. Who are you?”

Dean glared at Sam but dared not try to fight him for the phone back at this point. “Leave it, Sammy.”

Sam rolled his eyes and listened to whatever Cas was saying to him. He grinned. “No, no, he didn’t.”

They pulled up to a stop light and Dean lunged over to take the phone from Sam. He caught is successfully. “Hey Cas. Sorry about Sam. He’s a little jerk sometimes.”

“It’s okay.” Cas sounded like he was laughing a little. Then his voice was a bit more serious. “You never talked about me?

Dean sighed and replied as quietly as he could, not wanting to have this conversation, his first one with Cas, right next to Sam. “I just didn’t want to think about any of it, you know?”

Cas was silent a moment. “Yeah, I understand that.” He sounded like he did and Dean felt guilty about it. “You know I never wanted to go, right?”

“Yeah I know. I just still wish you hadn’t.”

“Me too.” Dean’s voice was almost a whisper, and they had just pulled up in front of Bobby’s. The brothers climbed out of the truck, Sam watching Dean with an odd expression, remaining strangely quiet.

No one said anything as Dean locked the truck and walked inside, quickly dropping his backpack and escaping the other occupants of the house by going back outside to sit by a tree. It felt right, somehow, when talking to Cas. He smiled as he remembered why.

“I can barely believe it,” Cas said quietly, once Dean was settled.

“I know what you mean.” Dean laughed. “It’s like destiny or something.” He clamped his mouth together after the words he really had not meant to say escaped from him.

He heard a small huff of laughter from the other end of the line. “Yeah, I guess so.”

They sat in companionable silence for another moment, before Dean asked, “So, uh… how have you been?”

After a pause, Cas answered. “Okay, I guess.” Another pause. “Better now. How about you?”

Dean felt himself flushing, and cleared his throat. “I’ve been, uh, fine.”

“Don’t lie.” Cas admonished.

“You don’t know I was lying!” Dean retorted indignantly. Even though he had been.

“Hmm.” Cas made a thinking noise. “I am pretty sure you were.”

“Yeah well-” Dean wasn’t sure how to answer that without another lie. “We shouldn’t be talking over the phone like this. Want to meet somewhere?”

“Sure.” Cas sounded surprised. “Like where.”

After a moment’s thought, Dean smiled. “I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

 

 

About twenty minutes later, Dean was watching Cas approach him from where he sat on a bench in the local park. He waved and smiled, and for one of the first times in a very long time, the smile was easy and natural, and felt like it lit him up from the inside. It was what Mary had long ago called, just to herself, his Cas smile. He would wear it when he went to school or Cas’s house, or when his best friend came over. He would wear an especially big version on Mondays after not seeing him for a while, or when he and Cas were talking about the castle they were going to build together. It had always made her smile.

Cas waved back and matched dean’s grin, speeding up his walk unconsciously so he could arrive faster.

“Hello, Dean,” he called as he waved.

“Hey Cas!” Dean responded. “Good to see you.”

“You have no idea,” Cas said to himself.

When he got to the bench, Dean stood and neither of them moved for a moment, suddenly awkward around each other.

Cas decided, to hell with it, and pulled a surprised Dean into a hug. He was just beginning to rethink his decision when Dean brought his arms up and hugged Cas back, tightly. And for a moment, the two of them felt five years old again, hanging onto each other after the first day of school, already not wanting to let the other one go.

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispered.

“I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, grabbing at Cas’s shirt a little.

“It’s okay. I know you had to.”

They let go of each other at this point, both looking away a little and both trying to hide the film of tears in their eyes.

Dean suddenly looked back up at Cas, a playful look in his eye. “Come on,” he said, and began walking away. Cas followed him to a big tree, and they settled won in the shade, both of them leaning against the bark, only an inch or so separating them.

“After Mom…” Dean began, then swallowed, not continuing. On an impulse, Cas grabbed his hand, winding his fingers in between Dean’s and squeezing just slightly. Dean looked over at him with a faint surprise that turned into a smile. Cas’s hand felt good, familiar. The texture was the same, not too sweaty and just the right amount of warmth.

He began again. “After Mom… died. I think Dad went a little crazy. He kept talking about conspiracies and how he has to ‘find them’ and all this other stuff. It never made much sense. So that day, when you saw me, he somehow got it into his head that we had to leave. Se he packed up the car and drove us away. He’d never go back here. I used to ask him all the time but…” Dean winced a little and sighed.

Cas scooted a little closer, closing the gap. It was nice how well he and Dean fell back in. he had worried there would be a lot of awkwardness, but instead, it just felt good. Like he _should_ be pressed up next to Dean’s side under a tree holding his hand. They hadn’t known each other growing up, and they both had changed a lot, but like this, they didn’t need to know all the other’s crap. Because to just exist next to each other, to know each other underneath everything, it felt right and it felt good, and it brought back a feeling both of them had almost forgotten having.

“Thanks Cas,” Dean said at one point, sitting with his eyes closed, the evening light playing through the branches and making soft patterns on his face.

“For what?” Cas felt like he should be thanking Dean.

“I dunno.” Dean cracked an eyelid to glance at Cas. “For just being you, I guess, for being here. You never need to say anything but you always make me feel better.”

Cas saw his cheeks redden in the shade and smiled. He squeezed Dean’s hand again.

They sat there until the light began to fade, neither saying much, neither needing too. Cas walked away and waved back at his friend. “See you tomorrow Dean!”

“Yeah! See you!” Dean answered, grinning and being immeasurably happy that he got to say those words and mean them once again. He was pretty sure going to school would not be a problem the next day.


	9. Chapter 9

Bobby and Sam noticed the change in Dean almost immediately. He was smiling, actually smiling, not smirking or grimacing or making some cheeky joke. He was just… happy. The surly, snarky teenager from earlier that day was essentially nonexistent.

“What’s got you all smiley, boy?” Bobby grumped from across the dinner table. He was secretly glad Dean was happy, the smile reminded him of when he had known Dean as a child. But he was a bit suspicious

“Nothing.” Dean answered unconvincingly.

Sam snorted and rolled his eyes, shoveling a forkful of salad into his mouth.

“If you’re not careful, you’ll turn into a real moose, better lay off on the salad” Dean teased, laughing and earning yet another eye roll from his brother.

“Whatever, Dean,” Sam grouched. “You’re just happy because that boy called you.”

“What boy?”

“Bobby!”

“Just curious, idjit.”

Dean sighed, and wondering if Bobby would remember. “Cas.”

“Cas?” Bobby’s eyes widened. Great, apparently he did remember. “I though he lived in your old town.”

“He did,” Dean answered uncomfortably, not looking at either of the people staring at him curiously. He really didn’t want to talk about it. “But he moved too I guess.”

Bobby laughed a little. “Well, that’s quite a coincidence. Hey, didn’t you always say you and him were going to-”

Dean tried to cut him off. “Please Bobby, don’t” he just didn’t want Sam to hear it, It was a little embarrassing.

But Sam, being the little jerk he was, asked, “What?”

And Bobby, filing the role of embarrassing parent, answered, “Dean always said he and his best friend Cas were going to get married and live in a castle,” before Dean could stop him.

Dean, mortified, watched as Sam started to laugh.

“Aww, how cute Dean,” Sam teased. “You had yourself a boyfriend.”

“Shut up,” Dean growled, hiding his burning face in his hands.

Sam most certainly did not shut up. And Dean somehow minded less than he showed. Now, the memories didn’t hurt like before, and it was kinda fun to talk about Cas. Though the castle memories were a bit embarrassing at the moment.

 

 

“I forgot to ask,” Cas said around a mouthful of the fries from the school cafeteria at lunch the next day, “why are you even back?” they were sitting on a low wall in the courtyard, surrounded by the rest of the school eating lunch.

Dean laughed a bit. “Yeah, it does seem like an obvious question, doesn’t it? But anyways, I’m not actually sure.”

“Huh?” Cas swallowed and looked at him, tilting his head just slightly in the way Dean remembered. It made him smile.

“Well, my dad just dropped us off here with our surrogate uncle Bobby and left, muttering about something. He went a little crazy after... uh,” Dean coughed uncomfortably and continued, “I really don’t know why we’re here after all this time. What about you. When did you move?”

Cas shrugged and took another bite. “About two months ago my dad’s work moved him here, for no good reason. And so here we are.”

“Huh. Okay. Weird coincidences I guess. Good though, obviously.”

“Like destiny?” Cas smiled and Dean hid his pink cheeks in taking another bit of his burger. Cas copied him.

“Still like burgers, huh Cas?” Dean laughed, remembering introducing Cas to them.

Cas nodded enthusiastically. “But none were as good as your mom’s.” he realized what he had said a second too late, but Dean just smiled sadly.

“Yeah. She was a good cook, wasn’t she?”

They ate in silence a minute or two.

“You still miss her, don’t you?”

Dean glanced at his friend. “Yeah, ‘course I do. But it’s gotten better, I guess. You’re lucky you don’t have memories to hurt you.”

“Maybe,” Cas said wistfully, shifting a bit closer to Dean. “But sometimes I wish I had something, anything to go on. Dad won’t talk about her, and he doesn’t have any of her stuff anymore.”

Dean stole one of Cas’s fries. “I see what you mean. Sometimes Sam will do something or say something, and I’ll just remember he never knew her, not really. I wish he had.”

Cas hummed a bit, and somehow, their shoulders were almost brushing as they sat side by side on the wall.

“Well, we kinda match now,” Dean laughed, a little sad now.

“What do you mean?” Cas turned his head to look at Dean, who was staring at his hands.

“I dunno. Dean mom. Father too busy to deal with us, long lost best friend.”

They both smiled at this one, and Cas bumped Dean’s shoulder with his own.

“I’m glad I have you back.”

“You keep saying that.”

“It keeps being true.”

“Yeah, you’re right… I’m glad too.”

“I know Dean.”

 

 

Dean lay sprawled out in Cas’s desk chair at his house. It had been a few weeks since they were reunited, and they were entirely over the strangeness of, “I just re-met my best friend I hadn’t talked to for eleven years” if the awkwardness had been there at all. Now was the first time Dean had come over to Cas’s house, though they had been over to Bobby’s a few times.

Dean had walked into Cas’s room, and the first thing he had done was sit in the chair and spun in circles until he was dizzy and Cas was laughing fairly hard.

“Why Dean, why?” he laughed, watching his friends eyes refocus and his body slump in the chair.

Dean shrugged, laughing too, and began to spin a bit more slowly, taking in his surroundings. He stopped facing Cas’s bulletin board, staring at something that caught his eye.

“You still have these old things?” he said, as if it was supposed to be a joke. But the tone of his voice said otherwise.

“Yeah,” Cas got up to stand by the chair, reaching over to unpin the papers. “They were all I had left,” he added quietly, rubbing the paper with his fingers.

Dean extended his hand, asking for them, and Cas gave them, walking back to sit on his bed with his back against the wall. Dean surprised him by following, sitting on the bed and leaning against the wall with the window, his feet a few inches from Cas’s.

He read through Cas’s notes first, the ones he had never seen, and Cas pretended not to notice the misty tint his eyes got. He almost smiled when he read his own note, and actually grinned looking at his picture.

“I was an awful artist,” he laughed, examining the picture.

Cas grabbed it from him lightly, and pushing Dean away with his feet. “Well, I thought it was perfect, at the time.”

“What about now?” Dean asked curiously, he had let Cas push him over and now just lay on his bed, his head lifted a bit and one eyebrow raised.

Cas rested his feet on Dean’s stomach, ignoring the small grunt of protest and looked at the picture of the two of them in the castle. “We really believed in it, didn’t we?” he mused, not really answering Dean.

Dean sat up, but Cas’s legs still rested on him. “Well why not?”

“It was a fairy tale, it couldn’t happen in real life.” He looked up and suddenly his eyes were caught by Dean’s.

“Well maybe not a full blown castle, but we could have done something.”

“Do you still want a castle with me, Dean?” Cas asked, a smile threatening to break out over his face. Instead, it was just hinted at in his eyes and at the corners of his mouth.

At this Dean looked away, a blush creeping up his neck. He was trying to push away the thought of how perfect Cas looked like that. “I don’t know. What do you want?”

After a minute of squinting and what Dean assumed was thinking, Cas gasped and got up, running out of his room and nearly knocking Dean over in the process.

“Cas what the hell? Where are you going?” Dean struggle to stand up off of the bed.

“I have an idea!” Cas called back to him from down the hall. Dean ran after him.

When Cas told him, he laughed out loud and told him it was silly. But then he said they totally had to do it.

 

 

“Seriously guys, this again? I’d thought you would be over it?” Chuck sighed, looking at the two determined teenagers standing across from his desk. Their expressions made it clear that they were, in fact, serious, and after a minute, Cas’s dad gave a long drawn out sigh.

“You know what guys, fine. You can do it. Go ahead. Just don’t break anything.”

Dean and Cas let out whoops and ran into the backyard, leaving an exasperated Chuck staring wearily at the blank pages in front of him. This backyard had another big tree. Not as good as the last one, but maybe that was just the haze of memory talking.

They stood together, sizing it up and making plans.

“You have any idea how to do this, Cas?”

“Not really. Do you?”

Dean thought. “A few. I think Bobby will help. Though he’s going to call us a pair of idjits for wanting to do this in the first place.”

“Okay,” Cas grinned at him. “Where do we start?”

 

Bobby did indeed call them idjits, but he also smiled affectionately at Dean and Cas, and agreed to help them with their project.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just FYI, I will be doing my best to update every day (when I get home from school)  
> Thank you for all the compliments! They've really been keeping me going and it means the world to me. <3<3<3<3<3


	10. Chapter 10

School so far was very different than it had been for Dean in the past. Now, he actually wanted to go. Okay, so maybe it was to see his (hot) best friend, but that was infinitely better than when he had growled and grumbled about it and ditched class and sat in the back. Now he paid attention, for the most part. His grade were better than he ever remembered. And so sure, having Cas help him study definitely didn’t hurt, but he’d take what he could get.

And his interactions with other people were different too. He wasn’t the too-cool-for-school jock anymore. He wasn’t found wandering the corridors with a group of scary looking people, and he wasn’t kicked out a janitor closet with some person he didn’t know the name of. Instead, he was always with Cas and his few friends. Cas’s friends were alright, Dean decided, if a bit odd.

There was Gabriel, a rather annoying kid with a sweet tooth but a good heart, Balthazar, a snarky one with an accent, as well as an attitude Dean could respect, there was Alfie, a small quiet kid who was a few years younger, but was actually alright, and lastly there was Hannah, a rather kind and pretty girl that Dean was pretty sure had a hopeless crush on Cas. But she knew he was gay (as Dean had been surprised but not upset to find out) and so didn’t push it. Anyways, she was funny and spunky and Dean liked her maybe the best of the bunch.

Dean still missed the others though, and when he asked Cas about it, found out that they all still kept in touch through Facebook and stuff. He resolved to get himself one of those someday. He had been out of the loop for too long.

One day Cas asked Dean, “have you seen the new episodes of Star trek?” when they were wandering around the park, ice cream in their hands.

Dean coughed and looked away sheepishly. “Actually, I stopped watching them when we left. Dad didn’t really approve of them. We watched a lot of other movies and shows and stuff. But I got really behind.”

Cas punched him lightly in the arm. “Charlie is going to kill you if she finds out. You really need to catch up before she visits in a couple weeks.” They had arranged a meet up with a few of their old friends on the upcoming three day weekend.

“I know,” Dean groaned, “I always wanted to but I never had the chance!”

Cas grinned. “Well lucky you, I have all of what you missed on Netflix. We need to turn you back into a nerd!”

Den pretended to complain, but the smile on his face gave away how he actually felt about it.

After that, most nights were TV nights at Cas’s house. It was very different than before, when Cas’s house had been the quiet one. They laughed and snacked and talked loudly in front of the TV, Cas laughing at Dean’s reactions to the cliffhangers and surprises, attempting not to give any spoilers away. And when he accidentally did a few times, Dean would tackle him, pushing him into the couch and making them laugh so hard that Chuck called down for them to be quiet.

They sat on the couch, sometimes laid out, sometimes with feet or heads in the other’s lap, sometimes leaning on each other, or just sitting, legs pressed together, laughing or gasping at the characters’ adventures.

Sam continually teased Dean about being with his boyfriend all the time, and Dean brushed him off with an eye roll and a grumble. He wasn’t really sure what he and Cas were. Best friends, obviously, but it felt different, better. They held hands a lot, leaned into each other, fell asleep on Cas’s couch with one laying across the other’s legs. It didn’t exactly really feel romantic, and Dean wasn’t sure what to think about it, let alone call it. So he just let it be, whatever it was. Either way, he was reminded time and time again of when he had insisted to the world that he was gonna marry Cas. Things weren’t that simple anymore, but Dean still had a feeling like he didn’t ever want to let Cas go, never again. Whatever that meant for the future, well, that was a bit too deep of a topic for a teenager, he decided.

 

 

The project was finished a couple of weekends after they started it, about halfway through first semester, and one week before Charlie, Anna, and Garth were visiting. Dean and Cas stood in Cas’s backyard, looking proudly at the finished product. It was a little shoddy, but it was sturdy and clean and, to them, perfect.

“You wanna go first?” Dean asked, grinning and grabbing Cas’s hand.

Cas shook his head, “you should.”

“No, you go first.”

Cas gave him a wry glance. “We’re not going to sit here and argue about who goes first like children, Dean.”

“Oh yeah, we couldn’t get more childish than a treehouse, could we Cas?” Dean laughed. “And we’re not gonna argue about it because you are getting your ass up there first.”

“No.” Cas narrowed his eyes at Dean, and the two stood there, locked in a staring contest for a minute or so. Dean wasn’t sure how long it was, to be honest. He kinda lost track of time staring into Cas’s eyes.

“Go.” Said Cas shortly.

“Fine,” Dean grouched. And no, it was not because he as half hypnotized by Cas’s eyes, it was not because he couldn’t stand the arguing, no matter how petty, it was not because of the smile that lit up Cas’s face afterwards (a heart melting one, to be sure), and it was most definitely not because he was extremely excited to get in his and Cas’s treehouse.

So, suppressing a wide grin himself, Dean approached the tree and climbed carefully up the wooden ladder they had nailed into the trunk. He heard Cas behind him, and wondered if Cas was looking at his butt (he so totally was) and soon opened the trap door in the floor, heaving himself into the space and rolling out of the way so Cas could get in.

Cas came soon after him, flopping on the floor just as Dean had. His side brushed against Dean’s as he closed the trapdoor, and soon they were both simply laying in the square of sun cast on the floor by the window, feet brushing and hands interlocked, ridiculous smiles on their faces.

“We finally got our treehouse, Cas,” Dean whispered into the quiet.

A bird chirped and a breeze flew by, rustling the branches, creating a soft sound and moving the treehouse ever so slightly.

“Yeah,” whispered Cas, lifting a hand to play with the dust motes in the sunlight. “Our castle.”

Dean felt his heart warm up, he felt nearly giddy. “Yeah.”

Cas rolled over onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow and looking down at Dean. The light from the window shown on him, filtering softly through his slightly messy hair and reflecting through his eyes, like little crystal pieces of the sky. Dean was struck by how amazing his best friend was, not just on the outside but the inside too. The light seemed to shine right through him, out of him, like Dean was catching a glimpse of his soul.

And he was smiling down at Dean, a playful quirk shaping his eyes and a bit of love making his eyes warm and happy, unlike the shards they would be without it. He had one tuft of hair on his head sticking up ridiculously, and it was so endearing, Dean couldn’t help but laugh a little.

A small frown creased Cas’s brow. “What’s funny, Dean?”

“I don’t know.” He answered, a small laugh bubbling up from inside him. “I’m just… happy.” As he said it, he was hit by how long it had been since that was a simple honest truth. It was always Cas that made him like this, it always had been. “You make me happy,” Dean added, because maybe the warmth was getting into his brain, or the smell of leaves and sun warmed wood was taking him too far from reality, but he was happy and a little giddy and he didn’t care.

“You make me happy too Dean,” Cas said, his eyes smiling and crinkling up at the corners. “Almost as happy as burgers,” he added teasingly.

“Hey,” Dean protested, “I’m much better than burgers.”

Cas laughed and flopped back down, this time laying on Dean’s arm where it had stretched out across the ground. Dean turned his head and Cas smiled at him, inches from his nose, his arm thrown across Dean’s chest and his warm body pressed against Dean’s side.

So Dean kissed him. He wasn’t sure why, or where it came from, but it felt right and it felt good. And Cas seemed to agree, his hand came up to cup Dean’s face, he could feel the smile, and he was pretty sure he heard Cas absently mutter something along the lines of, “yes… much better than burgers.” Dean would have laughed a little, but he was a bit preoccupied at the time. Cas’s lips were warm and dry, like his hands, and they felt good pressed against Dean’s, moving softly and surely and sweetly, making Dean never want to stop.

But they did have to breathe, and soon enough they broke apart, panting lightly from the heat and the lack of oxygen, grinning happily. Cas pressed a last, small kiss to Dean’s jaw and buried his face in Dean’s neck, where he could feel Cas smiling. They lay in happy silence for what could have been forever, wrapped contentedly up in one another. At one point they fell asleep in the midafternoon warmth, still smiling softly in their sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I have absolutely no romantic experience whatsoever so forgive me if I screw some stuff up or its unrealistic in that department, I am kinda unsure about it.
> 
> But I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Next one tomorrow. ^_^


	11. Chapter 11

They were woken from their treehouse nap by the voice of Cas’s father, calling up to them form the ground.

“Hey guys. Guys, I know you’re up there. Don’t make me come and get you. Dean! Cas!”

Dean groaned a bit, slid away from a still sleeping Cas, and stuck his head out of the window, calling back down blearily, “Sorry. We fell asleep, whaddya want?”

“It’s almost dinnertime,” Chuck answered, wrapping his robe around him a little tighter. “And it’s getting dark. You should be getting home.”

Dean noticed drowsily that the sun was fading from the sky and there was a chill in the air. “Yeah, okay Chuck. Be down in a minute.”

Chuck left grumbling something about teenagers, and Dean moved to wake his sleeping… what was he? A boyfriend? Seemed a strange title for it. They’d figure it out later. For now, he would just be Dean’s... Cas.

“My Cas,” Dean said to himself with a smile, kneeling down and gently shaking Cas’s shoulder. “Hey, wake up.”

Cas let out a little tired moan, and rolled onto his back, covering his eyes. Dean reached down to kiss him, which seemed to work on waking him up, as he was soon sitting up with his fingers in Dean’s hair.

“Hey,” Cas said, a little unnecessarily, pulling back and resting his forehead against Dean’s, a little goofy smile playing on his lips.

Dean kissed the tip of his nose in answer, then sighed. “Your dad said it’s time for me to go home.”

“Hmm, no.” Cas answered, letting his head fall onto Dean’s shoulder and winding his arms around his neck as they still sat there on the hard floor. “I don’t want you to go anymore.”

Dean let his breath tickle the back of Cas’s neck, and watched the little shiver of chills raise the hairs on it. His hands were on Cas’s waist. “Me either.”

“Then stay,” Cas almost whispered, nosing at the hollow at the base of Dean’s neck, sending a whole different kind of shiver through both of them.

But the rest of the mood and the conversation were evaporated and Cas’s dad’s voice called out again. “You two coming or do I have to come up there and get you?”

Cas sighed, pulled back a bit, and called back, “yeah, we’re coming dad.”

He let go, leaving Dean’s arms feeling empty, and slithered out the trapdoor, trusting Dean to follow him closely, which he did.

They landed next to each other in the grass, hands finding each other inadvertently.

“So, umm…” Dean said, thinking, “you gonna tell your dad?”

“Tell him what?”

“That we’re… I don’t know. Whatever we are.”

“Boyfriends?” Cas said the word easily, staring wide eyed and honest at Dean.

Dean gulped. “Well, I don’t know, are we?”

Cas shook his head wryly, “do you want to be?”

“Yeah.” Dean said it quickly, surprising himself.

“Alright then,” Cas said, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’ll talk to him later. When he’s not in a grumpy mood like now. I know he’ll be fine though. You, on the other hand, are going to get your butt kicked by Bobby if you don’t get home soon.”

Dean grimaced. “Yeah you’re right.” Then with a wink, “see you later, _babe.”_

Cas winced. “I don’t like that much.”

“Yeah me neither,” Dean answered. They stood looking at each other straight faced for a moment, and then burst out laughing.

“You better get that fine ass out of here, Winchester,” Cas’s eyes sparkled in the light of the sunset.

“Yeah, alright.” Dean leaned in to kiss him quickly, then danced away before Cas could take more. “Bye Cas!”

“See you later, Dean,” Cas answered with a soft grin, watching as Dean left his yard, the gate swinging shut softly behind him with a small squeak.

 

 

When Dean came in the door, he had a grin on his face and a spring in his step.

“You’re late, boy,” Bobby called out from wherever he was in the house. Dean heard him clomping downstairs.

“Sorry,” Dean answered, sounding not sorry at all.

“Lose track of time with your _boyfriend_?” Sam teased from the doorway, grinning smugly at Dean.

Dean considered not telling them but figured that wouldn’t end well. Might as well get it out now. So he just smiled at Sam. “Yeah, I did. Got a problem with that, Moose?” That taunt of _boyfriend_ would no longer serve to bother him, that was for sure. Not when it was true. Because it honestly made Dean more happy than anything else.

Sam looked at him wide-eyed. “Wait what?”

“You heard me, bitch,” Dean answered, toeing of his shoes and heading off to see if he could grab some food before dinner.

“Watch your mouth boy,” Bobby said half-heartedly. Dean knew he didn’t really mind though. “And get your thieving paws outa the fridge!” that last part carried a lot more force.

With a sigh and a faint eye-roll, Dean shut the fridge and went off to maybe watch some television before dinner.

“Jerk,” Sam muttered to him in passing, and Dean knew that meant he was fine with it.

At one point, Bobby clapped him on the shoulder and told him, “glad you idjit found someone who makes you happy.” And Dean had blushed and grumbled and looked away, but had been secretly pleased. Bobby had become almost like his father in the short time being here, and his approval meant a lot.

 

 

Later that night after dinner, Cas called Dean and said in a disgruntled voice, “Want to know what my dad said when I told him Dean? He said, ‘Finally. It was bound to happen.’”

“Don’t sound so ruffled about it, angel,” Dean said, the name slipping out before he meant it to.

“Angel, really?” Cas asked, sounding more amused than annoyed.

“I dunno,” Dean replied, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Cas told him softly, a smile in his voice. “So, how are you?”

 

 

The next weekend, Charlie, Anna, and Garth met them for ice cream (Charlie’s idea and, let’s face it, Charlie _is_ the queen, so she gets her way).

Dean and Cas walked in together, swinging their hand, and watched as Charlie punched Anna in the shoulder, declaring to the restaurant, “I knew it!”

“Seriously, them too?” Dean asked, a little exasperated.

“Apparently we were very obvious before, Cas laughed, and then kissed Dean’s cheek, which sent a furious blush up his neck and brought a couple whistles from their table of friends (i.e. Charlie.)

The three teenagers got up as they approached, and Dean grinned sheepishly at them. It was interesting to see how they hadn’t really changed much. Charlie was still fiery haired and sunshine-y, skinny with a graphic tee and the added accessory of glasses. She pulled Dean into a hug as soon as she could reach him.

“Good to see you. I missed you,” she told him with the smile Dean was quickly coming to remember.

And it was easy to reply with, “You too,” because it was true.

Anna was still red haired as well, but there were some darker streaks in it. She remained the calmer one of the two red-heads, though she still smiled warmly and gave each of them a small hug.

“It’s been too long, Castiel,” she said, a kindness in her eyes. “And far too long, Dean.”

“Definitely.”

Garth was still a skinny little beanpole, a bit shorter than Dean but still tall, with kinda thin cheeks and messy hair. But he was still extremely amiable, and all too happy to wrap Dean up in a hug that was tentatively reciprocated.

They sat and talked for a while, catching up, laughing when Charlie got brain freeze, and laughing even harder when Dean spilled his ice cream down his shirt. He grumbled about it, like the grumpy bear he was, but still, he had the time of his life. It felt really good to be surrounded his childhood friends, welcomed back into their midst as if he had never gone. Even though they were all changed, they were still friends, and that feeling, along with that of the solid form of Cas pressed into his side, well Dean had never been happier.

 

 

It was a chilly evening in the middle of October, and Cas and Dean were snuggled up on the couch at Bobby’s watching mindless TV and eating popcorn, when there was a loud knock at Bobby’s door. A loud, familiar, knock.

Dean froze, and Cas looked up at him front where he was leaned against Dean, his back pressed to Dean’s chest. “What is it?”

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas and stuck his face in his boyfriend’s hair. “No, can’t be,” he mumbled. Cas rubbed at his arm, looking worried.

“Dean!” Bobby yelled from across the house when the knock sounded for a second time, “Would you get that?”

Cas felt Dean swallow against him, and then was shifted out of the way as Dean got up and tentatively made his way to the door. Hurriedly, Cas got up and followed him.

Dean knew that knock, he was sure of it. Had heard it too many times to forget. It was loud, insistent and angry and-

Dean opened the door to what he had hoped not to find.

“Dean,” John said, looking more haggard and frazzled than ever, “you need to come with me, I’ve almost found her.”

“What!?” Dean took a step back, nearly running into Cas. “No! I’m not going anywhere.”

John strode into the house, just as Bobby came around the corner with Sam. They both stopped and stared at the sight in front of them.

“What do you want, John,” Bobby asked, sounding dangerous. “You said you weren’t going to be back a while longer.”

“It took less time than I thought.” John replied, in equal tones. “And I want my boys so we can go after it.”

“You’re not taking them with you on your crazy mission,” Bobby stated firmly, pushing Sam back a bit. “I dealt with this for years but this is enough. You’re not doing this to them anymore.”

John straightened up and narrowed his eyes. “You will not tell me what to do with my boys, Bobby. Now stand down. I am leaving with my boys in-”

“No, you’re not.” Dean piped up, voice ever so shaky.

“What?” John rounded on him.

“I said no. I am _not_ going back on the road with you and you are _not_ taking Sam either. We’re done.” He sounded loads more confident than he felt, and reached back to grab at Cas’s hand for support.

John seemed to notice Cas for the first time. “Who are you?”

“You remember me, Mr. Winchester, I’m sure,” Cas answered evenly, maintaining eye contact. “My name is Castiel.”

“Castiel,” John said it disbelievingly. “Really?”

“Yeah,” this time it was Dean who answered.

“You don’t want to go?” Joh looked at him, looking sad and alone and it almost broke Dean’s heart. “You’re happy here?”

“I am.” Dean replied, and added, biting his lip, “you should stay too.”

“I can’t.” John shook his head. He then turned to leave. “I have to find them.”

He looked back once at the door. “I’m glad you are happy, boys.”

And he said it with such sincerity that Dean couldn’t collect himself in time to respond or ask one last time, who “they” were, and the door swung shut.

“Good bye dad,” he whispered to the stunned silence of the house, feeling the light pressure of a squeeze from Cas’s hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh! what's going to happen next? x.x  
> Honestly, I don't even know.  
> Next chapter tomorrow! <3


	12. Chapter 12

Dean stared at the phone in his hand and gulped. This should not be this hard. This should not be so freaking hard! He wiped his hands on his jeans for perhaps the fifth time and raised the phone up a little higher, his finger hovering over the button, quivering slightly with indecision.

 

And at that moment, the phone rang in his hand, causing him to jump and drop the phone, letting out a few choice swearwords as he fumbled for the phone, eventually picking it up and answering with a strained, “Hello.”

 

“Dean are you alright?” Cas’s voice came through the phone, “you sound a bit odd.”

 

“Yeah. Nope. Fine.” Dean answered quickly. He could almost hear Cas narrowing his eyes. “Just about to call you actually.”

 

“Yeah? What for?” now Cas sounded happy, amused even, and Dean swallowed dryly.

 

“I uh- I- do you- I was wondering- shit… um?” it seemed he had forgotten how to speak.

 

“Dean, calm down. Are you trying to ask me out?”

 

“I-”

 

“Because if hadn’t forgotten, you’re already my boyfriend,” Cas told him dryly, “you don’t really have to be nervous about asking me on a date.”

 

Dean sighed. “I know I just,” he rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the weird anxiety draining out of him. “I dunno. Wanna go out?”

 

“Yeah. Of course I do, Dean,” he could hear the smile in Cas’s voice.

 

“Uh… Dean?”

 

“Yeah Cas?”

 

“Did you actually have an idea or did you not think you’d get that far?”

 

“Oh, right.” Dean cleared his throat. “I’ve got an idea.”

 

 

 

 

 

“You’re taking him to dinner?” Sam asked from where he stood in Dean’s doorway.

 

Dean himself was sitting on his bed with a shirt in each hand, staring at them like he had lost all hope in life. At Sam’s comment he looked up though, narrowing his eyes. “Yeah I am sasquatch.” Sam had grown a lot, now that it was almost end of first semester.

 

Sam raised his hands in defense. “Don’t sound so offended. I think it’s nice.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes and returned to the apparent shirt crises in front of him.

 

“Wear the blue one,” Sam advised.

 

Dean scoffed and dropped the blue on the floor, then started to put on the other shirt. But once Sam had left with an exaggerated eye roll, he stopped, sighed, reconsidered, and put on the blue, hurrying out the door.

 

 

 

 

 

It turned out that John had left his car, the 67 Impala, in Bobby’s driveway, taking a less conspicuous one from the neighbor. Dean kinda felt bad about his father, but he knew there was nothing he could do. It was pretty strange, taking the Impala, but he had always loved that car, and it was with pride that Dean pulled up in front of Cas’s house in the shiny black vehicle.

 

He got out of the car and saw Cas in a window. They waved to each other, and Dean watched as Cas disappeared, then waited for him to emerge from the house. And once he did, Dean let himself stare as hard as he wanted, because damn Cas like this was definitely worth the ogling. He had on simply a white shirt and black dress pants, and it looked as if he might have tried to do something to his hair that didn’t work out as planned.

 

When Cas got to him, Dean kissed him. He meant it to be small, honestly he did (he totally didn’t) but it left the real of small very quickly. Cas found himself with the cool car pressed against his back, his hands clutching at Dean’s shirt and fingers running through his hair.

 

“Nice to see you,” Cas managed to say, followed by a small soft sound that dissolved into Dean’s mouth.

 

“Yeah.” Dean answered, his nose rubbing at Cas’s briefly. He opened his eyes for a moment and was met with a warm wash of blue, a deep sea he could happily lose himself in forever.

 

“You look nice today,” Dean breathed onto Cas’s mouth, no longer kissing him, just sort of holding him, leaning up against the car.

 

“Well I did,” Cas laughed, “But you messed up my shirt and my hair for sure.”

 

“Hmm,” Dean mused, flicking a strand away from Cas’s forehead, “I like it better like this.”

 

Cas rolled his eyes with a laugh. “Don’t you think we should go?”

 

“Yeah I guess,” Dean mock sighed, “If you insist.”

 

“This was your idea, Winchester,” Cas teased.

 

“Whatever, angel.” Dean kissed him once more on the nose and stepped back, reaching around Cas to pull open the passenger door.

 

Cas raised his eyebrows. “Quite the gentlemen, Dean?”

 

Dean pretended to look offended. “Of course! I’m a prince!”

 

“My prince,” Cas laughed, climbing into the car.

 

Dean walked around the car and got in.

 

“You’re a prince too,” Dean stated.

 

“Oh am I?”

 

Dean grinned over at him. “Well yeah, prince Dean and prince Castiel.”

 

“Living together in our treehouse castle,” Cas finished.

 

“Exactly!” Dean started the car and pulled away from the curb.

 

 

 

 

 

Dinner went very well, washing away all of Dean’s doubts, and he felt silly for having them in the first place. They went to nice little out of the way place Dean had forgotten the name of, and sat and ate and talked for a few hours. Dean even approved of their pie, stared indignantly as Cas laughed until his stomach hurt at the blob of whipped cream stuck to the end of Dean’s nose.

 

“What is it?” Dean scowl grew as Cas’s laughter increased.

 

“You have a thing on your face.”

 

“Did I get it?” he swiped at his face.

 

“You missed. Missed again. You know what, here let me,” and with that Cas leaned quickly across the table and took the cream from Dean’s nose with his mouth, sitting back with a self-satisfied grin, and leaving behind a frozen and very red faced Dean.

 

“It’s gone now,” Cas said, unhelpfully, folding his arms and leaning back.

 

“Right, uh…” Dean rubbed at his neck and cleared his throat a few times. “You, uh, ready to go?”

 

“Sure,” Cas replied, not moving. Dean could tell he was trying not to laugh at his red-faced embarrassment.

 

So he paid the bill, pulled Cas outside, and kissed him senseless in the alley next to the restaurant, until they were both red faced and panting and smiling like it was the best day of their lives.

 

Cas leaned his head back against the wall as Dean ghosted his lips over the hollow in his neck above his heart, where his shirt had been pulled open slightly and his collar bones lay exposed.

 

“Love you,” he mumbled softly, closing his eyes and sighing.

 

Dean stopped and straightened up. And Cas, realizing what had just slipped from his mouth opened his eyes and lifted his head.

 

“Cas.” Dean said, eyes wide.

 

“Dean,” Cas answered carefully, not being able to see anything but surprise in his boyfriend’s face, and it was worrying him. “Are you alright?”

 

“Fine,” and there was the warmth returning to his eyes, the softness once again curving the corners of his mouth. “Very good, in fact,” he continued, leaning loser and brushing his face up against Cas’s, his hands coming up to rest lightly on Cas’s hips.

 

A few kisses later, Dean pulled back and quietly told Cas, “love you too, but you already knew that.”

 

“I did?” Cas asked breathlessly.

 

“Yeah. I told you before, a long time ago. Don’t you remember?”

 

An old memory resurfaces, of a time so many years ago when Dean said “Oh yeah, I forgot to say I love Cas too.” Like it was the most normal and obvious thing his little five year old self could have said.

 

“I remember,” he whispered into Dean’s hair, smiling and letting the short strands scratch at his cheek.

 

“I always meant it, I think.” Dean hold Cas in his arms, and Cas holds him back, the frantic heat from minutes before subsided, leaving gentle, leaving warmth in its place.

 

“Me too,” Cas tells him, not doubting the words for a minute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is a product of me getting stuck and forcing something out. Hope it's alright. >. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I say this in every comment I reply to, but THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR READING THIS AND LEAVING KUDOS AND COMMENTS!  
> It just baffles me how this is going on and all the nice things people have to say.  
> So yeah, thank you. Every comment makes my day and I can't wait for you all to read the rest! Enjoy today's fluffy chapter!

It was December, and Dean was felling on edge. He and Cas were walking down the street, hands swinging between them, bundled up in coats and hats and scarves (which Cas had to chase Dean down to wind around his neck and that may or may not have ended with giggly kisses on the floor of the coatroom, but either way, Dean had decided to let Cas make him wear it because though he kept on his grumpy face, he actually kinda liked the bee print scarf that had emerged from the depths of Cas’s closet and now was wound around him). Dean was glaring at the sky, at the decorations, at the giggling people passing them, and at every store front.

Eventually, Cas had had enough of it and, with a sigh, stopped and yanked Dean to a halt as well. “What’s wrong, Dean?”

“What do you mean?” Dean avoided his eyes.

Cas narrowed his own, until they were two blue glints staring out at Dean from under the bright red beanie. “Don’t mess with me, Dean Winchester. You know exactly what I mean.”

“It’s just all this-” he made a vague, sweeping gesture with his hand. “It’s weird.”

“It’s just holiday festivity, Dean, don’t you like Christmas?” Cas’s eyes widened, completely the opposite of a second ago.

“Not really,” Dean mumbled, shifting his feet uneasily.

Cas stared at him long and hard, thinking, until Dean was extremely uncomfortable and wondering if Cas was ever going to move.

“When was the last time you had a good Christmas, Dean?” Cas spoke up suddenly and quietly, and Dean was surprised into looking back into his eyes. They were filled with a sort of soft understanding that Dean would have scoffed at with anyone else, but with Cas, he couldn’t.

“Dad and us, we never really… did Christmas. I would, eh, find presents for Sam and pretend Dad got them but it was always pretty crappy.” Dean had looked forward to Christmas the first year, had kept asking his dad about when they were going to get the tree and if Santa would know how to find them in their motel. He had waited up Christmas night and fell asleep in the corner where he thought the presents would come, but had woken up lonely, his only present being a profound disillusionment with the holiday.

“Dean,” Cas sniffed, “this year you will have a good, Christmas, I will make sure of that.”

Dean looked back at him warily, but a note of acceptance came into his eyes and he sighed. “You can try, I guess,” taking Cas’s hand in his and pulling them onwards again.

It seemed that Cas took that as a very literal challenge, and almost every day he had something new bug Dean with, he made it his mission. He would wind tinsel through his hair or send him pictures of ornaments and trees, he’d drag him along to look at wrapping paper and presents, and he even once pulled Dean outside to listen to the carolers. A few days before Christmas, there was a knock on the door, which Dean answered, only to find Cas with a sprig of mistletoe and a beautifully happy mischievous grin. Dean, obviously, had gladly obliged, until Sam complained the house was getting cold from the door being open too long.

And gradually, Dean stopped minding, he began to look forward to whatever Cas decided to bring him that day, he laughed at the silly spontaneity the season seemed to give Cas, and let himself be swept up in the spirit of it all. He still grumbled about shopping, because it was his obligatory job, of course, but behind Cas’s back (or so he thought) he bought a few small presents, little things for the people he cared about most. And Cas pretended not to notice, smiling when some of the wrapping paper disappeared.

He even helped out with decorating the tree, though he denied wanting to do it. But Cas saw through him as he sorted through the boxes of Bobby’s ornaments, picking out the ones he liked and smiling as he arranged them on the tree. It made him happy to see Dean like this, it made him wish he had gotten to see it all the time growing up, and it made him want to see it for the rest of his life too. The thought didn’t exactly scare Cas, it just felt big, but happy and sweet and utterly right.

Christmas itself came pretty soon, and the day found Cas and Chuck stomping out in the cold on Bobby’s porch, only to be rushed inside by a bright eyed fourteen year old.

“Hey!” Bobby called from the kitchen, “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas Bobby,” Cas called back, pulling off his gloves and dropping them next the bag he had brought containing the presents.

It was then that heavy footsteps were heard on the stairs, and a bleary eyed Dean came trudging down, rubbing his eyes and suppressing a yawn, still dressed in sweatpants and a loose plain shirt.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said warmly, as the others enter the living room, talking about something or another.

“Morning,” Dean yawned, and Cas can’t help but feel the little swell of love in his heart as he looks at Dean like this, just completely comfortable and happy, with messed up hair, little lines on his face from sleep, and a pure, contented smile gracing his lips.

Dean came up to him and pulled on the edges of his jacket. “You should take this off.”

Cas raised his eyebrows and Dean rolled his eyes. “Seriously?” he asked, and Cas just shrugged. But he let Dean help him get un-bundled up, dropping his scarf (the bee one), hat, and jacket onto the ground by the gloves. Cas was left standing in a soft green sweater. Dean had half been expecting to get to tease him for having an ugly Christmas sweater, but wasn’t really disappointed. This was quite nice.

The cold exterior clothing gone, Dean wrapped Cas up in a hug, losing himself in the warm arms and burying his face in the soft material, breathing in Cas’s smell, letting it fill him up and making him smile. Cas held him back tightly, toeing off his boots and standing with his warm, socked feet on Dean’s slightly cold bare ones.

Dean made a happy, contented sound, coming up to kiss Cas lazily. “Merry Christmas”

“Merry Christmas, Dean,” Cas responds, pushing his still cold nose into a warm spot on Dean’s neck. “Love you.”

“I love you too, you big sap, now come on, Bobby made hot chocolate.” Dean finally let go of Castiel, and pulled him towards where all the others were, Cas just remembering to grab the presents as he came, dropping hem under the tree and arranging them careful before taking the mug Bobby offered him and plopping down on the couch next to Dean, sticking his toes underneath his boyfriend, more for comfort and to maybe annoy Dean that for warmth. But Dean just smiled at him and Cas smiled back, soon turning to laugh at something that Sam was saying.

Dean had never had such a pleasant Christmas, he had forgotten it was supposed to be like this, all happy and warmth and family, cozied up together while it froze outside, talking and laughing, drinking hot chocolate next to a big tree, decorated with ornaments and presiding over presents. It was wonderful.

Eventually they did open presents, Dean and Sam finding themselves with more than they had ever had in their lives piled up in front of them, even if that only meant about six each.

There was a wide assortment of things, from music to trinkets to clothes and books and movies, and all of it was perfect, according to the brothers.

Cas found himself with a small leather bound journal from Dean, with a pair of black wings imprinted onto the cover, and told a Dean that was quickly turning red faced that he loved it, because of course he did. And the tables were turned on him, when Dean opened the present Cas gave him. It had taken him a long time to pick something out, and he wasn’t exactly sure about it, but when he watched Dean’s face, he believed he had made the right choice. Dean carefully pulled the little glass sandcastle out of the paper with an affectionate smile, his fingers brushing lightly over the blue and green grains on the surface of the lightly colored figure. And he had whispered against Cas lips that, “It’s kinda chick-flick but I like it.”

Later, Cas had watched as Dean set it carefully on the shelf in his room, and as soon as he turned around, he had grabbed Dean and kissed him hard, not full of desperation or desire as so many of their kisses were, but of a warmth and love and need, telling Dean everything through the simple but profound contact.

 

 

They spent most of the winter vacation from school together, bundled up at one of their houses, wrapped in each other’s arms and bodies, watching bad Christmas movies and talking and generally making up for the years they lost by being as close to one another as they could be.

A few days after Christmas, Dean woke up to the incessant ringing of his phone which was unfortunately, across the room. So he threw off the covers, and ran over, grabbing the phone and answering while trying not to shiver in his room.

“DEAN!” Cas’s voice came across especially loudly for Dean having just woken up.

“What?” he grumbles sleepily, suppressing a yawn that threatened to make his eyes water.

“Look outside!” Cas voice barely contained his excitement, and Dean could tell he was struggling to stay calm.

“What?” he asks again, shuffling over to his window.

“Just look,” Cas tells him impatiently.

“Wh-” Dean begins to say, mainly to annoy Cas this time, but is stopped in his tracks when he pulls aside his blinds for a moment, squinting against the brightness. “Ohh…” he breathes, looking out across the whitened expanse of the street.

“See!” Cas sounds triumphant.

“Yeah…” Dean looks out across the street, watching a few lazy snowflakes swirl down through the air to join their brethren on the ground. “It’s beautiful,” he barely realizes he says it, and blushed when her realizes Cas heard him.

But Cas just says, with an awed smile in his voice, “yeah.”

 

 

Later that day, the obligatory snowball fight took place in Dean’s backyard, complete with little snow forts. The three of them, Cas, Dean, and Sam, got really into it, yelling and hollering and running around the backyard the whole time, becoming breathless with their laughter and numb on their faces and their fingers from the cold. That is, until Dean tackled Cas to the ground and kissed him in the snow until their lips were a little swollen and both of their faces were warm, heated up by the closeness of the other and the breath on their skin. They only got up when Sam started to complain, and then pelt them with small snowballs, that actually kind of hurt. After that, Cas and Dean teamed up on Sam for a good while, chasing the younger boy around the yard with snowballs. Somehow though, it turned into Cas and Sam chasing Dean, and like that, they took him down.

A long while later, they all sat inside, cheeks still flushed from the cold and the exertion, mugs of hot chocolate clutched in their freezing hands. They had come in shivering, shaking the snow from their collars and stomping feeling back into their toes. Cas and Dean now lay together on the couch, sharing their warmth, feet tucked under as best they could and limbs tangled together too. At first, they still shivered, but with soft touches and huddling closer together, they soothed the tremors in their limbs, and soon they were both asleep, while Sam quietly watched television, bundled up in a blanket and stretched out on the floor in front of the TV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, have happy Christmas times because why not. I needed to write it. So here we have it, I guess. <3


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, bit of a longer chapter today. ;) hope you're ready.

It happens a couple weeks into the next semester, a little after Dean’s birthday, which they celebrate quietly, with pie and a movie, of course. It happens on what should have been a normal day. It would have been, too. Except for the phone call, the one Dean happened to have to pick up because he was the only one home.

“Hello?” He said, leaning against the table, waiting for an answer.

The person at the other end took a deep breath. “Hello. May I speak to a Robert Singer?”

“He’s not here right now,” Dean drawled boredly, “Would you like me to give him a message?”

“Alright,” the man seemed to think. “That might not be necessary. Is there a Dean Winchester?”

“That would be me,” Dean said, somewhat taken aback. Who would call for Bobby and then ask for Dean too? It just didn’t make sense.

“Hello Dean, I’m from the FBI, and it seems there’s been an incident concerning your family.”

“What?” Dean was really completely confused. What the hell was going on?

“Well,” the man began, “we’ve been investigating this case for almost fourteen years now, a case involving house fires and bodies that were never found.”

Dean’s heart runs cold, but he hold back the feeling. He never heard of his mother’s body not being found. This can’t have anything to do with this, can it?

“And we’ve gotten almost nowhere, the department almost gave it up a few times, but the rash of them that happened a while back, there were so many. And then it started to happen again.”

Struggling to keep the worry and fear and bad memories from swelling up, Dean swallowed and asked, “This is all interesting dude, but what does it have to do with my family?”

The man sighed, but it was not from exasperation, but of fatigue, Dean thought. “Your mother Dean, she was part of it all.”

And suddenly every suspicion Dean had during this conversation came true. And the only though he managed to make into words is, “They never found her body?”

“No,” the man said, sounding confused. “You didn’t know that?”

“No,” Dean answered shortly, trying not to gasp for air, wondering why, after all this time, his father never once said it. He supposed he now knew why they never went to her funeral.

There is a slight pause, while the man presumably waits for Dean to say something else, but after a moment, he pushes on with his explanation. “And thanks to your father, we recently had a complete breakthrough.”

Still struggling not to hyperventilate, Dean managed to ask, his confusion distracting him enough, “wait, hold up, my dad?”

“Yes, your father. Indirectly and inadvertently I suppose. But that is part of the reason I’m calling you see. We had a few suspects of course, but nothing ever panned out. Then there was this car, crashed on the side of the road by where our prime suspect was located. And in it was a man, along with a lot of information no one should have.”

“Cashed car?” Dean breathed out, not daring to think. It’s what he took from the conversation most.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Dean,” the man said, sincerely, and Dean thinks he felt his heart stop. “I wish I could tell you it was painless, but the car was smashed up pretty bad, and so was he. Hit by a semi because he was in the wrong lane. We found levels of alcohol in his system that indicated-”

“Stop, please,” Dean said quietly, and the man did, and no one said anything for a minute, until the man spoke up quietly once more.

“But there’s something else Dean, something better.”

Dean did not reply, heart pounding in his head and the words echoing through his head, “Your father is dead, your father is dead…” and he almost didn’t hear what the man said next.

“The fires were cover ups. With the information we seized from your father’s car, combined with what we had, we were able to find them.””

“Them?”

“The hostages, Mr. Winchester. Held there for so long, most of them still alive. And,” he hesitates, “your mother is one of them. Mary Winchester is here, healing in the local hospital and asking for her boys.”

The phone slipped from Dean’s grasp, and he felt it all crashing over him, the weight of the man’s words, wanting to doubt them, and at the same time desperately hoping they are true. He had spent so long trying to deal with his mother’s loss, and then they call him up out of the blue to tell him he hadn’t lost her not really. But he had lost his father. It all was more than a bit much, and his head swam. He vaguely heard the man saying something from where Dean had dropped the phone, but doesn’t really care at the moment.

Luckily and amazingly, it is that moment that Bobby came back home, walking in the room to see a shell shocked Dean, his hand still by his head and the phone still emanating the small sounds of the man’s voice.

“What’s happened Dean?” Bobby asked striding into the room.

Before he gets to him, Dean just sort of whispers, “mom.” And then he passed out onto the carpet, letting the blood rushing to his head overcome him, and leaving an extremely confused and worried Bobby to figure out what is going on.

 

 

Dean woke later to the sound of Bobby’s voice, low and urgent and a little angry. He groaned and sat up, holding his pounding head and looking over to see Bobby standing with his back to him, holding the phone and speaking into it quietly. And he gasped a little as the memories of the conversation he just had on the phone came back to him.

Bobby hung up and turned to see Dean, his face very grim.

“You remember what he told you, boy?” Bobby asked softly, watching Dean as if to make sure he was alright.

“Yeah,” Dean answers equally quietly, and looked down at the floor. “Is it true?”

Bobby heaved a sigh and went to sit on the other couch. “From what I can tell, entirely. John is gone, and Mary… isn’t. Strange reversal.”

Dean didn’t answer, just simply put his head in his hands and asked, a little muffled, “What now?”

“We go and get your mom,” Bobby answered, sound sure of it. Dean felt a fleeting fear in his stomach, but pushed it away. His life had just turned upside-down, everything he ever thought he knew, and he didn’t know what to do. So he got up and fled to his room, lying face down on the blankets for a long time, simply thinking.

A little later Sam came home, and Dean was there when Bobby told him everything. Sam just sat there, a stoic look on his face, disbelief and grief and panic, along with many other emotions flickering across his expression. In the end, he was calm and accepting, not freaking out as Dean had. They all mourned John, and were excited and frightened to see Mary.

 

 

In the end, it was Cas that calmed Dean down, brought him back down to earth and helped him sort it all out. Dean had called him, and Cas had come over, so Dean could tell him everything. They sat alone in Dean’s room, Cas holding on to Dean as he explained, and as he let out tears that he didn’t know needed to be released. But afterwards, he felt better, it had been cathartic. One of the few sure things in his life right then was Cas, Cas’s sure, strong arms wrapped around him, holding him down, holding him together. He loved Cas for it, and told him so over and over, a thousand times peppered with kisses everywhere on his skin. And Cas told him back, with his mouth and his hands and his words, knowing Dean needed him and prepared to never let him go if he didn’t have to.

The adults were somehow convinced to let Cas come with Dean, Sam, and Bobby on their trip to visit Mary. It was less than a day’s drive luckily, so Dean didn’t have to deal with planes, and they all piled into Bobby’s truck, Cas and Dean huddled together in the backseat. They were all more subdued than normal, not saying much for most of the trip. But Cas held onto Dean, and Dean held onto Cas.

 

 

When they arrived, Dean found himself unable to get out of the car, and Cas had to virtually drag/carry him out. Once on unstable legs in the hospital parking lot, Dean stayed upright, clutching onto Cas’s hand and trailing behind Bobby and Sam as the approached the cold, white building.

Dean hated hospitals, he always had, and never knew why. Something about the feeling, or the smell, the knowledge that people died here, the looks everyone had, so many people without hope. It felt cold and dead and lifeless, like he was drowning in it there.

Bobby signed them all in, and they were directed to where they would find Mary Winchester. They were all allowed to go in, but Bobby and Cas pushed Sam and Dean forward into the room first.

The occupant of the bed looked up as the door opened, a scared look on her face. Her cheeks were a little thin and pale, and there were some scars and bruises Dean didn’t remember, but he knew the face. It was so familiar to him, the face from his best dreams and sometimes his worst nightmares.

She didn’t immediately recognize them, just watched the four of them warily, like a caged animal might. But then her eyes flickered to bobby with a hint of recognition. “Bobby,” she said softly with a note of disbelief. She looked at the two boys standing before her, matching looks of shock on their faces. “But does that mean…” and there is that voice, a little rough and tired, but it is her voice.

And it is what it took to break the spell keeping Dean quiet. “Mom,” he said, the word small and scared, like a child again. She looks at him, and he can see it in her eyes, she know who he is. He felt the tears in his eyes.

“Dean,” she replied, staring at him wide and teary eyed.

“Yeah mom, it’s me,” he half laughs, half sobs, and stepped forward, pulling his little brother forward a fumbling step as well. “And this is Sam.”

“Sam,” she whispered, crying now, turning her gaze on her youngest, who was staring at her in disbelief. This woman, who he never had actually known, his mother, and he could barely take it. Sam figured it was past the time of not crying.

He stepped closer to her bed, right up next to it. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, and though she’s sitting battered in a hospital bed, he means it. He only ever saw pictures of her, and to have the real woman in front of him, smiling up at him with tears and love in her eyes, he found her beautiful.

She laughed out a little sob, and reached out her arms. Sam let himself be pulled into a hug, the first one from his mother ever, and wrapped his arms around her as well, holding her as gently as he could.

Mary turned to Dean, who hadn’t moved, a small, overwhelmed smile on his features, and gestured with one hand. “You come here too, young man.”

He obeyed, gladly, so scared something would go wrong before it could happen, but soon he was once again in his mother’s embrace, her thin arms holding him close. Her blond hair brushed against him as he remembered it from so long ago, and her fingers rubbed little circles into his back, just as he had forgotten.

After some time, they are released, albeit reluctantly, and the boys sit in the chairs in her room. A few more are brought in, and Cas and Bobby sat too. It isn’t long, and only once she tears her gaze away from her boys for a moment, that their mom turns to Cas and asks, “Well who is this handsome young man?”

Cas meanwhile, has been watching the proceedings with awe, and a minor hint of jealousy. The Winchester had lost their mother, as he had, but they got her back. He would never know his, and the thought made him sad. But watching them and Mary, he remembered times so long ago, running with Dean and both jumping at the same time to be caught in Mary’s arms, holding her hand, hugging her when she came to get Dean. He had loved her as well, and it was still quite a shock to see her again. He had had to wipe away some tears.

And then her gaze was turned on him, and he swallowed nervously. Would he even remember him?

Impatient with his shocked silence, Dean interjected, bumping his shoulder against Cas’s, “This is Cas mom, do you remember him?”

And Mary’s eyes widened. “Cas? Castiel? Really?”

Cas nodded shyly. Apparently she had remembered.

“Come here, dear,” she said, with force but also kindness, something he had almost forgotten. And so, tentatively, Cas stands and makes his way to Mary, only to be pulled into a tight hug by the woman who had once called him her third son.

She released him with a smile, and said as he was sitting down, “I’m glad you and Dean still have each other.”

Dean and Cas exchanged a glance, but figured they weren’t quite ready to tell the whole story yet. So Dean just smiled at Cas and said, “Us too,” grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know how the whole police thing would work, so I just manipulated it to fit this, and also I know Mary would realistically be a lot more traumatized, but I didn't want to write that since I want to make this a happy story and maybe this whole thing was a bad idea but here you go anyways.


	15. Chapter 15

Things turned really weird, and really not weird at the same time. After a few days that the five of them spent up where Mary was, she is well enough to go home, her only injuries being malnourishment and a few minor physical injuries that stopped hurting her after a while. Then they all loaded into the car, the three boys squishing into the back, and drove all the way home.

The drive this time is a bit livelier, with everyone catching up. It wasn’t all happy of course, as Mary gets the condensed version of what happened after she was kidnapped and presumed dead. She sighs angrily at John for what he did, but let it fade. He was gone, there was no one to be angry at, and that pain turned into a weariness on her. She smiled at the story of Cas and Dean being reunited, praised Sam’s grades, and listened intently as they talk about school and their friends. She seemed eager to soak up every detail about their lives, and her sons, all three of them as she said, were more than happy to oblige.

There is another somber time, where they learn what she was wailing to share about her time from them. That night, she had heard a sound, in Sam’s nursery actually, and had found a man there, he had grabbed her and took her, muffling her sounds and setting fire on his way out. She had been taken somewhere, somewhere dark and cold and full of people, sounding tortured and anguished. Her face had closed up at this point, and no one pressed her. The years had gone by slowly, she thought about them every day, she said, hoping they were all right.

Their jailer had been a man they called Azazel, and he’d had a second in command named Alistair. The men had enjoyed inflicting pain, leaving all of them chained up, feeding them just often enough, and occasionally wetting their knifes with the blood. She fingered the scar on her cheek there, seeming to drift off for a minute, but shook herself from it. That had gone on for years, and then one day, it had changed. Bright lights entered, unfamiliar voices had come, and the pain filled voices had stopped crying out. They had brought her out, treated her, learned her name, told her that her husband had died and helped the investigation, and then one day told her that her boys were coming.

“And I hardly believed it until you all walked in. It was like one of my many dreams. But it’s real,” She sighed with a sad smile, “and I have you all back now. For that, I am endlessly grateful.”

 

 

Back at the house, Mary was settled into Bobby’s last spare room, where she spent a lot of her time resting at first. Then slowly, she came out more, preferring to sit in the company of her boys and people that loved her. Sometimes, she had nightmares about her time kidnapped, but they became less as the months progressed, and were virtually gone as the end of the school year neared.

After Mary was well enough, she was almost always found in the garden or sitting on the porch, anywhere outside, anywhere in the sunlight. She could never get enough of its feeling against her skin, the warmth seeping through her, the smell of the world in her nose and the feel of the wind through her hair. Mary reveled in the world, letting it fill her up once again and make up for all the time it had thought it had lost her.

The feeling of having a mother was surreal for Dean and Sam, to say the least. It was so entirely foreign to them to wake up to the smell of bacon, to hear a happy woman’s voice singing from whatever part of the house she was in, to have her hold them and hug them and give them a goodnight kiss on the top of their head. They didn’t know what to do with her love and her care, her kindness. John had barely taken care of them, let alone been a parent, and though they had had Bobby for a while, this was entirely new and strange. But they loved it, loved her, and welcomed her into their lives and their heart, talked to her endlessly, hugged her tight, like she might disappear, and still stared in slight shock when she handed them a lunch for school in the mornings. They were the best lunches Dean had ever tasted, and she often put an extra sandwich or something in there for Cas too, because, as she claimed, “Chuck doesn’t feed that beanpole of a boy enough.” And Dean and Cas laughed and rolled their eyes when she ruffled their hair, but they were secretly pleased, and she knew it. 

She teased Dean and Cas a lot too, barley going a day without causing a blush to seep up onto her eldest son's face. Cas would laugh a little and kiss Dean on the cheek, squeezing his hand. And he would smile back at Cas in a way that made Mary's heart warm. So much had changed since she had left, but the one thing she could still rely on was how much Dean and Cas loved each other. The look had changed some, now that they understood, but the essence of it was the same, pure love and a little bit of wonder. She'd be immensely surprised if they ever stopped looking at each other like that. She could tell they had been unhappy for a long time, and watching them learn what joy felt like again, and to learn it herself, that felt wonderful.

With all the change and newness in their lives, the end of the school year snuck up on them kinda fast, and before they knew it, Dean and Cas were getting graduation information and their cap and gowns in the mail.

Dean stared at his, which was on the desk in his room. He sat on his bed next to Cas, well more like on Cas, and the two of them had been sharing a companionable silence.

That was until Dean spoke up. “This is so weird.”

“Hmm?” Cas hummed as a question, not really looking up from where he was nosing at Dean’s shoulder.

“Graduation,” Dean clarified, shaking his head in disbelief. “I never thought I was going to graduate. I was going to quit, honestly, when we moved here.”

“Really?” Cas lifted his head, and Dean turned a little to look at him.

“Yeah. Sammy only just convinced me to go that first day and, well if it hadn’t been for you I wouldn’t have gone back.” He admitted the last part a little sheepishly.

“Humph. Well I’m glad you did.” Cas answered, returning to the attention he was giving Dean’s neck before.

“Yeah, me too,” Dean commented, surprising himself. He really was glad he was doing this. Life was such a far cry from what it had been last year, he felt like he no longer knew the person he had been. He sat back and let Cas whisper his love into Dean’s throat, smiling sleepily and bringing his hand up to slide through Cas’s hair.

 

 

They talked about college a little, neither extremely enthusiastic about the idea, but both determined to go. Dean found Cas was utterly indifferent to where he went, not really caring about prestige, only functionality and affordability, and Dean agreed with him. So they both applied to the local state universities, figuring they would probably go to the same place, and why not? They weren’t prepared to be separated again.

Both of their grades were fairly decent (well Dean’s were now, he had had to redo a couple of classes from before, but he had all his credits and a not so bad GPA when it all ended). And because of that, they weren’t really doubting getting into college. But still, when Dean’s acceptance letter came, he beamed proudly and felt an overwhelming sense of relief. He had let his mom hug him tightly, and had let Bobby ruffle his hair proudly, and had called Cas up excitedly.

And when his boyfriend received his a few days later, he kissed hard and happily. They weren’t letting something get between them again, and the feeling and the freedom was exhilarating and wonderful. They both managed to get excited for college after that, though not quite as much so as Mary. Dean had to tell her to calm down with the dorm furniture shopping quite a few times. But she was just happy and looking forward to it. And for the first time in a while, Dean was looking forward to moving on as well.

 

 

Dean had been assuming graduation day would be anticlimactic, that he would walk up there, hear his name, receive his diploma, and move on with life, not really feeling a whole lot different. But surprisingly, it had been so much more than he had expected.

It was weird, walking out near the end of the line (because of his last name) while hearing the band play the obligatory "Pomp and Circumstance", and there was a flutter of nervous excitement in him as they all sat and the speeches begun. He tuned out for most of them, knowing gist of what they were saying, and not really caring about all that “a whole new chapter of our lives” stuff.

He clapped and whooped when they called Cas’s name, and though a few people around him rolled their eyes, the shy smile Cas gives him from up on the stage is enough to validate him, and he sat back, smiling and waiting for his row to stand. When they did, he followed the girl in front of him, feeling the nervousness tighten up his stomach once again. He took deep breaths, focusing on walking. And then they’re taking his picture off to the side, he’s smiling, and they are sending him up the stairs to the stage.

“Dean Winchester,” the voice rang out in the large room, echoing a little, and Dean gasped just the tiniest bit. He’s here, he did it. And distantly, he heard them clapping, most people just small and polite and obligatory, but he picked out the voices of his mother and even Cas briefly as they cheer, and he felt his grin growing as he walked. The woman handed him a folder with his name on it.

“Congratulations,” she whispered, smiling at him, and he breathed some sort of reply with a nod and a thanks, and then his time was up. The photographer snapped a picture of him and his folder which contained his diploma, and he descended the stage, the names of fellow classmates following him.

They had them sit once again, and Dean fidgeted, waiting for it to all done. He couldn’t help but be impatient. Finally, they are told to move their tassels to the other side. Dean did so, and then promptly threw the cap into the air, watching it spin amongst the others. He caught it, and rushed off into the crowd to find Cas and his mom and Bobby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit late today sorry!   
> By the way, if any of you ever have any suggestions or catch any errors or anything (cause I'm lazy and I don't edit very much), let me know.  
> Thank you and have a wonderful rest of your day!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3<3<3

They moved in on the same day, Dean’s stuff loaded into Bobby’s truck and Cas’s stuffed into his father’s car. Cas’s family followed Dean’s and before long they’re at the dorms. Dean and Cas weren’t sharing rooms, as that might be a bit much, but they were in the same building, a couple floors apart.

Dean was on the ground floor (thank God) and Cas was on the fourth, just an elevator ride away, and the prospect made him smile.it was so odd to be moving out, especially when his mom had just moved back in with them, and to be on his own. Neither of them had had much time alone, or alone with each other, and though they would miss lazy afternoons on Dean’s couch or in the treehouse (their castle) they were looking forward to the freedom.

Dean was majoring in mechanical engineering. Once he started caring about school, he found that he had a real affinity for the sciences, and especially enjoyed the physics and engineering aspects of things. He had always enjoyed working on cars, but wanted to expand his knowledge. Once the school year started, he found that he really liked his choice. Cas on the other hand, had seen no clear cut path for himself, loving so many things and not wanting to choose. He had changed his mind dozens of times, exasperating Dean with his fickleness.

“I wish I could just do everything,” Cas sighed, talking to Dean on the phone one night.

Dean laughed a little. “You can’t do everything Cas. There aren’t any jobs or majors like that.”

Cas was silent, and Dean imagined he could hear him thinking. “Yeah there are.”

“Huh?”

Cas spoke slowly, as if he was thinking very hard about what he was saying, and was at the same time a little unsure. “I could be a teacher.”

“Would you was to be a teacher?” Dean was a little surprised.

“Yeah, I think so. I think I would really enjoy it.” Cas started to cheer up, and sound more confident about it.

“You sure?” Dean asked him, trying to imagine Cas as a teacher, surrounded by little kids. Surprising himself, he could, and smiled warmly at the thought.

“I don’t know yet,” Cas told him, but this feels more right than anything else I was thinking about.” And he sounded more sure about it than he had about anything else as well.

“I can see it,” he mused.

“You can?” Cas asked.

“Yeah.”

“Hmm,” Cas made a happy little thinking noise, like a hum. “I think I can too.”

So Cas ended up picking a major in education, emphasizing in literature with Dean’s encouragement, as that had been one of his favorite subjects.

Their studies took up a lot of their time, often when Dean had some free time, Cas did not, and vice versa. But there were a few times every week that were not consumed by classes or homework, and these they spent together. They might drive down to visit their families, or go out, or spend the time stretched out in the sun on the grass in the park. Or they might just stay inside, snuggle up together in one of their dorms, with blankets and TV and food and snuggly couches, content with the other’s company and the other’s touch. They avoided certain things though as having your roommate walk in on you with your boyfriend is not an experience anyone would want to repeat, as they learned the hard way once or twice. This did cause some frustration, to be sure, but they were horny college kids, they found a way.

All in all, college life wasn’t nearly as bad as they (especially Dean) had been expecting. They found that they were learning a lot about things they loved, and enjoyed that. Cas only became more sure of his decision on major, though he couldn’t decide on what grade he wanted. Dean teased him a little of course, since he was Dean, but he loved Cas’s compassion and devotion to what he chose, and Cas knew that.

 

 

Dean woke slowly, there was a soft light filtering down onto his closed eyelids, just bright enough to wake him but not so bright as for it to be unpleasant. He smiled, still half asleep, and breathed in slowly. The morning was pleasantly warm with the sunlight on him, and it smelled good, comforting and soft, and like home.

Something was lightly tickling his face, and Dean cracked his eyelids to glance down. There was a dark, fuzzy shape, just under his chin, and Dean knew it immediately. Cas.

The thought comforted him, and he closed his eyes, wiggling just slightly and turning his head so that his cheek lay on the pillow and Cas’s head was firmly tucked under his chin. Cas’s hair was warm and soft, and Dean hummed ever so slightly, feeling his throat rumble under the slight pressure of Cas’s head.

Cas himself lay half on top of Dean, who was laying on his back. Cas had his face tucked into Dean’s chest, one of his legs was wedged in between Dean’s, the other pressing up against the side of Dean’s leg. He lay on top of Dean’s arm, which was wrapped around him, and his arm that was not stuck under him was flung across Dean’s body, the fingers curled into the blankets that were halfway across the two of them. His body was a solid presence, pushing into Dean, and it felt extremely, _right._

The sun was becoming brighter, and Dean was waking with it. Cas had his eyes hidden from, it, and he was still sleeping, every once in a while making a soft noise in his sleep, happy, contented sounds that made Dean’s heart swell a little bit with each one. Dean opened his eyes fully this time, stifling the yawn that wanted to stretch his jaw. He heard the soft sounds of people waking up and getting ready around him, from the other dorms. There was sounds of talking, small clinks from the kitchen, the faint buzz of a coffee maker or two. Outside, there might have been a few birds singing, and there also might have been the rumble of cars from the far off street. They were all the pleasant, happy sounds of morning time, unobtrusive and a little bit beautiful.

The thought made Dean think back to a time when that definitely would not have been what ran through his mind. Just a few years ago, he remembered angrily stuffing his head under the crappy motel pillow every time he heard the world start to wake. He had wanted the world to not touch him back then, and fought back against any intrusion, however pleasant, it had made on his life. Oh, how he has changed. Now, he woke up with a smile on his face and an arm wrapped around the person he loved most in the world (well, aside from his brother I suppose).

After a time, he felt Cas stirring against him slightly, and heard the slow calming breaths his boyfriend had been making change into those of a person who is awake. He brought his free hand up and carded his fingers through Cas’s hair, letting the strands run through his fingers slowly, and felt more than heard the appreciative hum that came from the person tightly wrapped around him.

“Hey Cas,” Dean whispered, shifting so that he could press a kiss into Cas’s forehead, just below the hairline.

“Dean,” Cas answered through a yawn. He then reached down and pulled the covers up from where they rested somewhere around his middle, so that they covered his head and Dean’s too mostly, throwing their faces into shadow and blocking out most of the morning light. He wrapped his arm back around Dean with a sigh and squeezed him closer, his fingers grabbing onto Dean’s side and making him squirm involuntarily.

“Hold still,” Cas mumbled into the skin on his neck, only serving to make Dean squirm more. Cas lifted his head, pushing up the blankets, and squinted groggily at Dean. Dean stared back, wide eyed. He held the gaze for a few moments, and then Cas let his head fall back down, but not before Dean saw an expression on it that worried him. It was too mischievous for morning time.

Cas’s hand strayed back to Dean’s side, and brushed at the skin exposed above his t shirt just slightly, causing Dean to suppress a little yelp.

“I’d forgotten you were ticklish,” Cas laughed softly.

And that was all the warning Dean had before Cas attacked him, seeming to shed all cobwebs of sleepiness immediately. He pinned Dean to the bed, tickling his mercilessly, causing Dean to burst out in gasping laughter, mixed with bouts of begging and a few mild threats.

Cas stopped after a bit, and Dean took the opportunity to roll them over, landing Cas on his back with his wrists pinned out at his sides, and a heavily breathing boyfriend half kneeling on top of him.

They didn’t say anything for a little while, simply sat there and stared at each other. Cas’s face was blank, though his eyes still sparkled a bit mischievously, and Dean wore a small, unreadable half smile. Without breaking eye contact, Dean leaned down, and their eyes only left each other once their lips met, eyelids fluttering closed and smiles lighting up both faces, though neither of them could see.

Cas pushed up slightly into the kiss, his chest brushing Dean’s wanting to be as close as he could. Dean obliged the wish, pushing down so that his elbows rested next to Cas’s at his sides. Their intertwined hands laying close to Cas’s head.

Dean didn’t think kissing Cas would ever get old, it was beautiful and every time new. There was the slight bad taste of morning breath, but past that, Cas still tasted wonderful. Dean always got a little bit (embarrassingly, for him) poetic when thinking about Cas. Kissing Cas had the crack of thunder in it, and the flash of lightning. It was like soft afternoon rain, it was the feeling of finding warmth after feeling cold, of sweet relief and release. It was kindness and joy, passion, excitement, love and lust and hope. It might be slow and lazy, or fevered and needy, flavored with desire. Kissing Cas was beautiful and unique, he was light and he was home.

A bit later, they lay calmly together again, their feet twisted in the blankets, sun strong and bright outside the window. Dean was rolled into Cas’s side, one arm trapped under him and the other wrapped around him. He had his nose tucked under Cas’s side just barely, his chin about at waist level. Cas played with his hair.

“I love you,” Cas whispered. Every time he said that, it still thrilled Dean. He felt his heart thrumming with warmth and love in his chest, beating softly and strongly where his was leaning into Cas.

Tightening his grip, Dean lifted his face up so he could answer, “I love you too.” Cas smiled down at him, and Dean was hit with the perfection of the moment, the perfection of Cas, every perfect wonderful little piece of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry guys, I have literally no time tomorrow, so it is extremely likely that I won't get the chapter up then (it might happen late at night but idk)  
> But for absolute sure I will get one up the next day so don't worry!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arg it's so late! 
> 
> I literally have a bruise on my finger tip. Typing is obnoxious.

Cas was laying on his bed in his dorm room, stretched out on his stomach with his feet in the air, reading, when Dean burst in, a grin on his face. Cas blinked up at him, pulling himself out of the world in his book and trying to understand what his boyfriends was doing.

“Hello Dean, what is it?”

In answer, Dean strode over, grabbed Cas’s hand, and pulled him off the bed onto his feet. “We’re going to the park.”

“Why?” Cas let Dean pull him along, not objecting, just curious.

“I don’t know.” Dean shrugged.

“Okay.” Cas left with Dean, beginning to run as Dean did, and they laughed as they ran, barefoot the both of them, down the sidewalk to the park that was right by the campus.

They reached the park and slowed, panting in the heat of the day, and begin to walk barefoot along the sun warmed concrete path that wound around the place, through the grass and past the trees, around the duck pond and by the sports fields. They swung their intertwined hands as they walked some times, laughing and talking joking and occasionally stopping for a kiss that got them a few odd glares that they ignored.

 

They stopped by the pond, sitting on the edge and dangling their feet. The water was just far enough away that their toes skimmed the surface of the water. A duck came over and nibbled Cas’s toes.

“Sorry little guy,” he laughed, “I don’t have anything for you.

 

Soccer balls and bare feet are bad combinations. A stubbed toe or two later, Dean and Cas learned this.

 

No, Dean, the man selling ice cream will not accept your smile as payment, no matter how charming it may be. He would prefer the money crumpled in Cas’s pocket, thank you very much.

 

They leaned on the fence by the baseball fields, and Cas swatted Dean’s arm when he became just a _little_ too appreciative of the uniform pants.

“What, you have a nicer ass than any of them anyways,” Dean laughed as they left a bit later.

Cas just rolled his eyes with an exasperated yet affectionate smile.

 

 

“We should skip.”

“You can’t be serious, Dean.”

“Deadly, love.”

After a second or so of silent conversation, they were off, Dean with an excited, “Come on!” pulling a laughing Castiel behind him down the sidewalk, past the much more boring park-goers.

 

Dean tried to climb a tree, but ended up flat on his back in the grass, stunned and with a concerned boyfriend leaning over him asking, “Dean, are you alright?”

“Yeah, fine,” Dean grunted, snatching Cas’s hand and pulling him down to join him on the slightly damp grass in the shade of the tree. Cas rested his head on Dean’s arm, and they stared up at the dappled foliage above them. The light shone through the leaves in a way that reminded Cas of Dean’s eyes when the light hit them just right, bright and lively and warm.

“Remember the tree, in my backyard?”

“Yeah, course I do. We’d sit there forever, it was really nice.”

“And we’d talk about what we were going to do when we grew up.”

“Like how many guinea pigs I’d be willing to put up with,” Dean grinned at the memory, remembering an extremely serious Cas telling him, ‘I dunno. Maybe eight or ten.’

“I stand by that,” Cas said jokingly, “when I grow up I want a bunch of guinea pigs.”

“Maybe a dog,” Dean mused, closing his eyes and letting the sun fall on his eyelids.

“Hmm,” Cas mused, “I like dogs.”

“Deal then. We’ll get a guinea pig and a dog.”

“Two guinea pigs.”

Dean cracked one eye and turned to look at Cas, finding him wearing his most serious face, looking up at Dean with those pleading eyes that already knew that they would get exactly what they wanted.

“Yeah we’ll see,” Dean answered, in a tone that totally meant yes, and Cas snuggled into his side, kissing him under the jaw, lips lingering and breath tickling Dean’s neck in a way that was most definitely on purpose.

“I love you Dean.” Dean had closed his eyes again, but he heard the smile in Cas’s voice.

“Love you too, you idiot.”

Cas hummed against Dean’s neck, earning himself a long, slow kiss in retaliation.

 

Roughly an hour later, they sat on a bench. The sun was about to set, and there weren’t many people left at the park. Dean was actually laying down, his head in Cas’s lap. He had a hold of Cas’s hand, and was playing with his fingers, holding the hand above his face. He couldn’t see Cas’s face, but, if he could have, Dean would have seen the other boy looking at him like he was the most important thing in the universe, eyes soft (and maybe the tiniest bit shiny) and a gentle smile upon his lips.

But suddenly, Dean sat up and jumped off the bench, stopping and turning around to face Cas a few feet away.

“Dean, wha-”

“Bet you can’t catch me.”

Cas narrowed his eyes at Dean, “that is an unwise bet to make, Dean.”

Dean just wiggled his eyebrows, turning and bolting away across the grass.

“Hey!” Cas shouted after him, leaving the bench and sprinting after Dean, bare feet sliding slightly in the damp, wet grass.

Dean kept running, laughing and zigzagging and darting away just as Cas got a little closer. But Cas was persistent, a less lazy than Dean when it came to exercise, and before long, Cas put on a burst of speed and caught the back of Dean’s shirt, pulling and causing him to stumble. Cas used that, and leapt forward, tackling Dean to the ground and sending them both rolling across the grass.

Dean pinned Cas to the ground, and momentarily enjoyed the sight laid out before him, Cas was flushed from exertion, cheeks pink and eyes wide under his long lashes. He was breathing heavily, and those wonderful lips were parted, teasing at a smile.

Dean decided that kissing that expression off of him would be the best plan of action, and so he did just that, swallowing Cas’s surprised happy noise, and cupping the back of his head against the grass. Cas’s hand wandered up Dean’s body, one sliding into his back pocket, and the other hooking a thumb under the waistband of his jeans. Dean’s free hand twisted into the grass strands next to them, fingertips finding soft soil. Cas still tasted a little like the ice cream they had eaten before, his lips just barely sticky with it, his tongue eagerly seeking the residue he must taste in Dean’s mouth as well.

Dean pulled back with a slight gasp, and Cas remained under him, mouth open and eyes closed. After a moment he opened them, looking accusatorily at Dean as if to say, “why did you stop?”

“I think we need to go now,” Dean told him, as explanation.

Cas’s grin grew, “I can live with that.”

 

 

Not much later, they were back in the dorm buildings, and halfway to where they wanted to be when the door opened.

“Hey Cas, you here?” The voice of Cas’s roommate called out.

They both froze where they were on the couch, hands not moving from bare chests, lips paused inches apart.

They heard the man banging around a bit in the kitchen. “Cas?”

That seemed to wake them up a bit, and Cas sat up, well sort of, and called back, “yeah, give me a minute.” His voice was a bit too breathless and rough to be normal.

“Cas, so help me if I just interrupted something with your boyfriend again, I swear to god,” He walked into the room as Dean and Cas were pulling their shirts back on. “Yep,” he sighed, and rolled his eyes. “Have you guys ever heard of putting a sock on the door or something? Seriously…”

He left the room and Dean flopped back on the couch, now just sitting on it. “I am so tired of this place.”

Cas leaned into his side and answered dryly, “I would have to agree.”

Dean kissed the side of Cas’s head, “well we’re stuck here for now, angel.”


	18. Chapter 18

“No we’re not,” Cas said suddenly.

“Not what?”

“Stuck here. We’re not really.” Cas

“What do you mean?”

“Well the school year’s almost over, and we don’t have to live in the dorms. We could…” Cas drifted off as he realized all the implications of what he was saying. Suddenly he felt nervous, and did not look back up at Dean.

“You wanna get an apartment or something?” Dean asked easily, nudging Cas with his shoulder slightly to get him to look up.

Cas was surprised at the total lack of deliberation Dean had had on the issue, and lifted his eyes to look into Dean’s. “You’d be fine with that?” he asked tentatively.

“Living with you? Yeah, of course. Why?” Dean suddenly looked a little worried, “would you, uh be okay with it? Living with me I mean…”

Cas surprised him with a kiss, soft short and sweet. He lingers afterward, a hand on Dean’s face, forehead resting on his boyfriend’s and their breath intermingling between their mouths.

“Let’s do it,” Cas said.

Dean grins, “Okay.”

 

 

Finding an apartment to share turns out to be w whole lot harder than they thought it was going to be. Most of the ones within the immediate vicinity of the school are full of college kids already, and they don’t want to stray too far from that area. Or they’re too expensive, even more so than the dorms they have occupied the past year.

Eventually, they got Dean’s mom involved in the search. When Dean called her to get her advice, (when she found out about what they were doing), well, Cas heard her excitement from the room over, and came in to ask Dean if he was alright only to find him holding the phone as far away from his ear as he could, an exasperated but loving smile on his face.

They still had a month or so before they had to register their place of residence for next year. If they couldn’t find a place they were going to have to deal with the dorms again, and though both of them grimaced at the thought of that, they didn’t really have much of an option unless there became somewhere available.

 

 

“Hey Cas, you’re not gonna believe this,” Dean said quickly as Cas picks up the phone, cutting of his greeting.

“Well, hello to you too,” Cas replied, amused.

“Hello Cas, how are you? Good? Fine, me too. Love you, love you too, now I have to show you a thing!” Dean is a little bit breathless and excited.

“Yeah sure, what is it?” Cas spun idly in his desk chair, wondering what the fuss could possibly be about.

“Can you be ready to go in ten minutes?”

“Yeah, I guess. Is it that urgent?”

“Yes.”

“Do I get to know what it is?”

“No. You have to see it.”

“Fine. I’ll see you in ten.”

“See you Cas. Love you!” the end of Dean’s words were almost cut off by the phone hanging up, and Cas sighed.

“Sometimes I worry about him,” Cas told the empty room. Then he got up and proceeded to look for his shoes in the disaster area he called a room, along with a pair of gloves. It was cold that night, despite the time of year.

 

 

Ten minutes later, Cas closed the outer door of the dorm building and turned to see an excited Dean, standing out in the pool of light from the street lamp just outside the door. He was hopping from foot to foot a little, but whether from the cold or excitement, Cas was unsure.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas smiled as he saw Dean turn to look at him, the happy excitement plain on his face. “Now what did you want to show me?”

“Cas! We have to walk to it.” Dean practically bounced over to him and scooped up his hand in his, pecking him on the cheek and immediately starting to pull him along.

Cas followed him, pulling back a bit to restrain his boyfriend who was acting like an overeager puppy. “In the cold?” he complained, already shivering a little. He hadn’t found the gloves.

“Yeah, you dork. Didn’t you remember your gloves? Your hands are already freezing.

Cas sighed. “Couldn’t find them.”

“Your room is a mess.” They rounded a corner and continued walking.

“I know,” Cas said, a little irritably, “but I don’t have time to clean it out.”

Dean smiled at him with a look that knew something Cas didn’t, and said, “You’re going to have to soon.”

“Why?”

Dean just wiggled his eyebrows.

Cas shivered again, and stuck his free hand in the pocket of his thin jacket, attempting to warm it.

Dean pulled Cas to a stop and turned to face him. “Give me both your hands.”

“I thought we were in a hurry,” Cas clenched his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering.

“You’re more important,” Dean said, dismissing his earlier restlessness for gentle concern, and pulled Cas’s hand that already wasn’t clutched in Dean’s out of his pocket. Dean’s hands were warm and the tremors through Cas’s arms slowed.

“You really are freezing!” Dean sounded mildly surprised but mostly worried. He pulled Cas into him, wrapping him up so that his arms were pinned in between them and his numb nose was finding warmth against Dean’s neck. His jacket was much thicker than Cas’s, and he always seemed to be warmer. They stood on the street corner for a while, people walking past them, the stars turning slowly up above.

Soon, though, Cas felt restless. Any other day, he could stand for an eternity in Dean’s arms, but Dean’s excitement from before had seeped into him, and now he was beginning to have a raging curiosity about what they were going to go see.

He wiggled in Dean’s arms. “Let’s go.”

“You warmed up?”

“I’m fine,” Dean let go and Cas began to pull him along in the direction they had been going. “Let’s go! I want to see what got you so excited before.”

Dean seemed to remember why they were out freezing in the cold in the first place, and took the lead again. “You’re gonna love it.”

“Am I?”

Dean looked a little worried for a moment. “You better.”

Cas kissed the back of Dean’s hand, the one that held his own. “If you like it this much, I’m sure I will.”

Dean smiled at him, tugging a little so that they walked side by side. “Yeah.”

They walked a few more minutes, Cas periodically asking where they were going and what it was and how much longer and Dean without fail refusing to tell him anything, delighting in the look Cas got on his face when he pretended to zip up his lips and throw away the key.

Cas had kissed his lips open again and asked one last time, “so what is it?” as they stood in the street, lips still almost touching.

Dean stole a quick kiss and walked on. “Not telling.”

There came an exasperated and frustrated noise from the man net to him.

Surprisingly, Dean pulled him to a stop at the next corner, and Cas stumbled a bit.

“Why did you stop?”

“We’re almost there.” Dean was smiling.

“We are?” Cas looked around, but didn’t really recognize the area. Not at night anyways. “Then why did you stop?”

Dean let go of Cas’s hand and stepped behind him, covering his eyes with his hands and nudging him forward. “You can’t look yet.”

“ _Dean_ ,” Cas cooperated though, stepping as Dean guided him around the corner and stepping down off the curb when Dean told him to.

“So you know how we were looking for an apartment?” Dean asked as they walked.

“Yeah. Wait, were?” Cas almost tripped, but Dean held him up and they continued.

“Yep. Well, I think so, if you like it.”

“You taking me to an apartment? I hardly see how this warrants me covering my eyes and all the secrecy, exciting as it is. Couldn’t you have just told me if you found a place?”

“Oh, you’ll understand soon,” Dean told him in a mysterious, knowing tone. Then, they stopped. “Ready?” Dean asked in a whisper.

“Yeah,” Cas told him, also in a whisper. Something about the surprise and the mystery and the excitement of the whole thing was really getting to him, and though he believed he already understood the thing, he felt anticipation building in his stomach.

“Okay,” the whisper came right in Cas’s ear, with a little puff of breath tickling him.

And then the hands were removed and Cas understood immediately exactly what was so special about this place.

“No way,” Cas breathed, feeling the smile take over his face. “How did this happen?”

“I know right?!” Dean bounced around him. “And it’s actually a really nice place. I was looking around. And they have some apartments free on the ground floor and they actually pretty affordable and the walk to school, as you saw, isn’t too far. I don’t know how we didn’t find this place sooner!”

Cas was grinning then, grabbed Dean to make him stop, and kissed him hard, right there in the parking lot. “This place is perfect.”

“It’s cause I’m awesome.”

“I would have to agree. How did you even find it?”

“It was my mom, actually,” Dean answered a tad sheepishly. “She called me up and said, ‘Dean, you are not going to believe the place I found.’”

“Ha, that’s exactly what you said to me. She remembered?”

“Apparently.”

“Then I take it back, she’s awesome,” Cas teased.

“Hey!” Dean pretended to look offended.

“Well, I guess you are too,” Cas conceded with a playful smile. Then he turned serious. “Now, let’s get back, I can barely feel my fingers.”

 

 

A week later, Dean and Cas moved into the place called “The Castle apartments,” laughing and smiling about the inside joke of it all the whole time.

Sam teased them a little, saying, “Seriously, you’re moving into a place called Castle?”

And Dean smacked his arm playfully, retorting with a grin and a simple, “Shut up, bitch.”

“Jerk,” Sam rolled his eyes, but he had on that happy, wise face, and Dean could sense underneath it the, “I’m happy for you two, even if it is cheesy.”

 

 

They finally had their castle, so to speak, not a fort or a treehouse or a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, one planned chapter left. What am I gonna do?  
> But yeah, anyways, I hope you liked our little princes finding their castle, I had a lot of fun with it. :)


	19. Chapter 19

They were visiting back home, and were on Bobby’s couch, with Mary and Sam with them, Bobby out in the salvage yard working or something. They were all eating lunch, burgers actually. Mary had made them, and Cas had practically groaned with pleasure first biting into them. He had missed Mary and her food, and he didn’t think he would ever quite get over it.

After a bit of silence, Cas spoke up. “Who’s Jess?” he asked innocently, glancing at Sam.

Dean’s little brother’s face began to turn red, “what? Who?” his voice was too high and pinched to be anything other than him playing dumb.

Dean glanced between his brother and his boyfriend. “Wait what?

“Nothing!” Sam protested in the background.

“I heard him talking to a ‘Jess’ earlier. Curious is all,” Cas told Dean, with a false air of innocence.

Dean raised his eyebrows at that, and joined Cas in looking at Sam. “Spill it, Moose.”

Sam shot hi a bitchfaces, turning his head away and not deigning to answer.

But he was declined that option as his mother chimed in, “Yeah Sam, I’ve been meaning to ask you who this girl is you are talking to al the time.” She smiled at him, and though it was phrased as a request for information, Sam knew his mother well enough at this point to know he better answer her. A glare and a snubbing would not work so well on his mother as his brother.

So he cleared his throat and glanced around nervously and swallowed. “Jess is my… friend.”

Dean scoffed and Sam shot him a look that actually made him shut up for once. “She is my friend, and she’s really cool and nice and smart and I really like her,” Sam trailed off to almost a mumble at the end and looked away embarrassedly, cheeks pinked.

Dean was about to make a smart, big brotherly retort, but Cas saw it coming and smacked him lightly in the arm, just giving Dean a _look_ when he uttered a hushed, “What?” they exchanged a bit of silent conversation for a moment, and then Dean sighed and rolled his eyes and simply said, “cool. She sounds nice.”

Sam made a sort of positive grunt, and turned back to his food, burying his face in the burger.

Dean took another bite, satisfied momentarily with his big brother embarrassment duties.

Cas had finished his burger very quickly, and now lay down across Dean’s lap, yawning contentedly.

“Dude, how did you eat that thing so fast?” Dean glanced down Cas in his lap.

“It was very good, and I was hungry.”

“Don’t you want to savor it or something?”

Cas shrugged a little. “It’s a constant struggle between instant gratification and the drawing out of pleasure. I was in the mood for the former.”

“Yeah alright,” Dean half rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna pretend I understood that and move on.”

“You did understand, don’t downplay yourself,” Cas poked him in the stomach.

“Hey!” Dean attempted to jump back, but that’s kind of hard when the person you are trying to escape from is on top of you. All that really happened was Cas was jolted by Dean’s slightly flailing legs.

“You are a terrible pillow,” Cas told him with mock severity. “Hold still.”

“Don’t poke me then!”

“Knock it off guys, I’m trying to eat here,” Sam complained, “Your sappy fighting is giving me a stomach ache.”

“Hey, shut up, bitch,” Dean shot back.

“Boys,” Mary admonished, and that was all it took rally to get them back into line.

But that was gone a few minutes later.

“So, tell me more about Jess,” Dean grinned slyly.

Sam groaned.

 

 

That year, on Cas’s birthday, Dean had a surprise waiting for him when he got back from his last class, which was after Dean’s.

Dean had thought about it a lot, not sure what to get Cas, and then it had hit him, this idea, and he had decided it was perfect. Not sure he could top it later, but hey that wasn’t important then.

“Dean!” Cas called as he came in the door. “I’m home,”

“Hey angel!” Dean’s voice came from their bedroom. Cas dropped his stuff on the couch and went to go find Dean, rolling his shoulder’s tiredly from the day and the walk.

Before he could get in the room, Dean appeared, blocking the door way. “Heya Cas.”

He kissed Dean hello, and replied, “Hey.”

Dean grinned at him, the secret he was keeping apparent on his face.

Cas narrowed his eyes. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“Like what?” Dean composed his features, but he couldn’t stop the expression in his eyes.

“You’re hiding something.”

“Am I?”

“Really, Dean?”

“Sorry, sorry, fine, I’ll tell you.” Dean was grinning again. Cas raised his eyebrows in question, and Dean started his explanation. “Well you know how it’s your birthday and we already had cake and went out to lunch with Charlie and them and I gave you your present?”

“Yeah?” Cas said slowly, not understanding.

“Well, I didn’t give you all your presents. I saved this one for later, didn’t go and get it until you went to those last couple of classes.” Dean was practically rocking back and forth on his feet.

“What is it?” Cas’s curiosity was officially piqued. Dean’s surprises were notoriously either awful of wonderful.

Dean began to walk backwards into the room, and turned around, blocking Cas’s view to something on the bed. He tried to peer around Dean from the doorway, but it was to no avail and whatever Dean was removing from that box was hidden from him for the moment.

Then Dean turned around and Cas’s mouth fell open in shock. He stepped forward, not moving his eyes from it.

“Dean, it’s a….”

“Yeah, a cat, I know. Do you like her?”

Cas tore his eyes away from the little cat in Dean’s arms to raise his eyebrows at Dean. “Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“So that means…?”

“I love her you idiot!” Cas exclaimed, reaching a tentative hand up to brush the cat’s fur, which was soft, she was a dark brown and orange tortoiseshell with long fur. She lifted her head to push into Cas’s hand, uttering the smallest little meow and beginning to vibrate with little purrs in Dean’s arms.

“Hey, she really likes you,” Dean grinned, reaching his face down to nuzzle into the cat’s fur.

That’s when Cas remembered something, well, several somethings. “Wait, are you going to be fine with her? What about your allergies?”

Dean grinned. “I did research, this kind of cat isn’t supposed to be very allergenic, if she’s the breed I think she is. And I’m fine so far.” He shrugged.

“What about the landlords? Are we allowed to have pets?”

“Already talked to them. It’s just a little more a month on the rent, and we’re fine.”

“Where did you get her? How much did she cost?” Cas was curious and a little worried about this, cats, especially hypoallergenic ones, were generally expensive.

“Relax, I got her from the pound, so almost nothing.”

“And is she-”

“Already got her shots and checkup. She’s fine and healthy and stuff. Are you out of paranoid questions yet?”

Cas couldn’t help the happiness inside him from bubbling up into a giggle. “Yeah, I’m good. Just one more thing.”

“What?”

“Does she have a name already?”

“Nope, that’s for us. Any ideas?” Dean handed the cat to Cas, who took her eagerly, wrapping her securely in his arms and marveling at the little tiny body that curled into his chest, closing its eyes and purring gently against his heart.

Cas rocked his arms a little bit, staring down at the small creature he held adoringly. “Hmm…” he thought out loud, turning in a little circle that Dean resisted the urge to laugh about. “How about… Annabelle?”

“That was fast.” Dean caught the two of them on his arms and hugged Cas close, but just far enough that the little cat was securely but comfortably sandwiched between their chests. The purring grew.

“It just came to me. Do you like it?” Cas dropped his head so that it rested on Dean’s, and shifted a free arm to wrap around him.

“Hmm…” Dean hummed, taking one arm from the hug to scratch at the cat’s fur. “Yeah, I think I do. Welcome to the family, Annabelle.”

The cat soon fell asleep between them, like a little toddler, and Cas dragged Dean over to sit on the bed, placing the warm ball of fur on his lap to pet slowly. Dean entwined his hand with Cas’s free one, and Cas squeezed it tightly. Dean looked over to see an expression of pure joy on Cas’s face, one that made him so happy he felt his heart might just swell out of his chest.

Cas leaned his head on Dean’s shoulder, in danger of falling asleep just like Annabelle on his lap. “I thought you wanted a dog,” he yawned.

Dean shrugged ever so slightly, just enough so that Cas felt his head move a little with the motion. “I kinda did, but I dunno, I just guess a cat fit you better.”

Cas hummed, fiddling with Dean’s fingers sleepily. “Thank you Dean. I love her, and I love you.”

“Love you too, angel,” Dean dipped down to kiss Cas on the top of the head. “Happy birthday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, not the last chapter. My plan needs more time it turns out. Plus, I had more in my head in store for these guys than I originally was thinking.   
> And in case you are curious, I kiiiinda based the cat off my cat. She came from the pound and is a tortoiseshell Turkish Van (we don't really know, it's just a guess) which are supposed to be hypoallergenic and even though my whole family is allergic we are fine with her so yeah. Fluffy cats are wonderful. <3


	20. Chapter 20

The new school year started a little while after they had moved in, which had been about when the last one had ended. Costs were about the same with the apartment, but the debt was constantly growing. They had taken out student loans, but they knew they would have to pay them back. So as sophomores in college, they decided to get jobs.

Temporary ones, though, just something small and part time to keep them afloat and pay the rent, buy the food, etcetera, so that they didn’t have to dip too much into other money.

But the problem was, what should they do?

Dean and Cas sat at the little dining table in their apartment. Cas was scanning the newspaper and sipping from his coffee cup. Dean had his feet on Cas’s lap and was chewing on a bagel for breakfast. He listened closely to what Cas was reading off of.

“There’s about ten fast food places.”

“Ew. Last resort.”

“I agree.” Cas perused a minute more. “Movie theater?”

“Eh. Maybe.”

“Personal assistant.”

“That sounds gross.”

“The library is looking for someone.”

“You should look into that one.”

“Yeah, I think I will,” Cas mused, then kept looking for one for Dean. He saw something that made him smile. “I think you’ll like this one, Dean.”

“Yeah?”

“That pie shop you love wants a-”

“I’m in.”

“Thought you might be. Though this doesn’t mean we’ll get the jobs we want.”

“Right. Interviews. What a joy.” Dean made a small groan of frustration and finished his bagel in one gigantic bite. He'd had odd jobs before, on the road, and a little one in high school, but this was a lot more. It hit him a little bit that they really weren't kids anymore.

 

 

They both got the jobs, easily, though interviews felt like hell (at least for Dean), and the pay kind of sucked. Better than nothing, Dean thought.

Dean enjoyed spending time in the pie shop. He was surrounded by the smell of one of his most favorite things in the world. He loved standing at the counter and watching the pieces of pie, cherry, apple, pecan, strawberry rhubarb, blueberry, peach, banana crème, chocolate, key lime, and many more, pass from the bakery in the back to the customer in front of him. He liked watching them smile as they took the treat, sometimes eating it with some coffee and a book in the shop, sometimes leaving with it, still steaming, in one of their small brown paper bags. 

He worked several weekdays in the evening and in the mornings on Saturdays, and though he always grumbled about getting up and going to the shop, his frown instantly melted when he stepped foot in the shop. He would come home to Cas, warm and smelling like pie, with crumbs on his shirt and sometimes powdered sugar in his hair from when he occasionally helped with the preparation. And then, Dean would be surrounded with his favorite things, pie and Cas. 

And he didn't think he could smile much bigger than he often did. Not to mention the employee discount, which was very nice and from Dean, very well used.

And Cas loved being at the library. He often worked around the same time as Dean, which was fortunate, sometimes spending the whole of Saturday in the place, not because he had to but because of how he enjoyed being there. Just as Dean loved the scent of the pie around him, Cas took much joy in being covered in the scent of books, paper and ink.

He loved walking down the row of books, putting books away from the cart and running his fingers down the diverse spines. They were soft and hard, smooth, rough, short, tall, thick, thin, new and crisp, old and lovingly worn. He smiled, imagining all the stories that those things held, brushed over his fingertips, and whenever he had a free moment there, he could be found curled up in an armchair in the corner, eyes wide, face smiling, and a book on his knee. 

He saw a huge assortment of people come into the library, sometimes stopping to speak with him or ask a question, but more often than not, slipping off to find their own corner of the library, the little niche where they found whole new worlds to wrap them up, no matter who they were.

Cas would often come back to his and Dean's apartment with a book under his arm, smelling vaguely like the library, sometimes with little paper cuts on his fingers that Dean would cringe a little with sympathy at and then playfully attempt to kiss them better and wrap his fingers in bandages, though Cas would just roll his eyes. They stung, but he didn't mind so much. Being at the library gave him a sense of peace he hadn't had in a while, a more profound sense to his happiness.

Not to say it was all sugar and rainbows, of course. With work and school they were both exhausted, and had little quality time spent together. They would flop into bed at the end of the day, wind their arms around each other, and go to sleep. Or one of them would be up in the early hours of the morning on the computer finishing homework, an essay or research or something. All in all, they were exhausted.

They had a free weekend once, neither of their jobs needed them, and so they were left with a whole free Saturday in front of them.

“Do you need the computer for any work?” Dean asked, “I’m all caught up.”

Cas paused from where he was sorting through some papers, and he mentally ran through a checklist of all the things he had to do. “Me… too?” he said it like a question and Dean looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“You sure?”

Cas nodded slowly and then smiled. “We don’t have any work to do.”

“I don’t know what to do with myself,” Dean said, only half joking and walking towards Cas. Free time felt unrealistic, like they had a whole monster of duties and responsibilities lurking around the corner that they had forgotten about, and it was waiting for the opportune moment to jump out and squash them under its weight.

“Well what do you want to do?” Cas stood up and met Dean, wrapping him up in his tired arms and resting his head on his shoulder.

Dean rubbed little circles into his back and arms, massaging out some of the tension and causing Cas to relax further into him. “I want you.” He trailed his lips teasingly along Cas’s neck. “I just want to be with you and relax, enjoy ourselves for once.”

“I like that,” Cas squeezed Dean lightly. “Want to watch a movie?”

“How about a Harry Potter marathon?”

“Charlie got you hooked, didn’t she?” Cas looked up at Dean with laughter in his eyes. Dean had knocked Charlie’s obsession with the series, until she forced him to sit down and watch it one day.

Dean looked away. “Shut up,” he grumbled.

Cas just rolled his eyes and pulled Dean towards the couch, grabbing the first movie and putting it in, soon coming to sit on the small little old couch next to Dean, tucking himself into his boyfriend’s side and pulling up the blanket around the both of them. The heating in their little apartment was on the fritz, and a chilliness had permeated the air recently. Cas tucked his cold toes under Dean’s leg as the opening played. Dean wrapped his arm around Cas, rubbing Cas’s shoulder almost unconsciously.

About halfway through the movie, Dean got up for snacks, ignoring Cas’s protests as the warm body he had been tucked into left momentarily. Dean came back soon with a bag of candy and refolded himself up on the couch. Cas threw the blanket over him again and stole a piece of candy from the bag.

They continued watching for a while, talking and laughing like they always did before in front of the television.

The first movie ended, and Dean got up to replace it with the next one. They passed the day away like that, watching until they were on the last one.

Cas leaned his head on Dean’s shoulder partway through the last movie, and slid his arm around his back. He looked up confused as Dean stiffened, narrowing his eyes. 

“Dean, what..?” he pulled his hand back a little, sitting up, and Dean squirmed again, clenching his jaw ever so slightly. Cas smiled in realization, and carefully removed the bag from Dean’s hand, setting it on the table. Dean eyed him suspiciously and silently.

“You always try to pretend,” Cas says quietly, mischievously, shifting so he is kneeling towards Dean.

“Cas,” Dean was worried, it was not always a good thing when Cas got that gleam in his eyes. Last time it had meant…

“Like I won’t notice it tickles,” Cas smiled and narrowed his eyes, leaning forward.

Dean swallowed, and Cas pounced, tackling Dean into the couch, the movie playing ignored in the background. Dean dissolved into giggles, frantically gasping for breath and flailing his arms uselessly trying to fight Cas off. But Cas was merciless, pinning his legs down with his knees and tickling Dean’s sides, his arms, any piece of skin he could get his hands on. Dean’s laughter echoed through the apartment, and Cas laughed too.

“Cas-” Dean gasped, “Please! Cas!” he squirmed violently, and the both of them were sent tumbling into a heap on the ground, tangled in the blankets and panting for air, breathless. Dean ended up on top of Cas then, and grabbed his wrists to hold him down onto the floor and keep his treacherous hands away from Dean’s ticklish spots. He glared down at Cas, and Cas looked back up with a mocking innocent expression.

Inexplicably, Dean’s face broke into a grin, and he laughed down at Cas. The two of them were tangled in the blankets on the floor in front of the TV, which was still playing quietly, entirely forgotten. It was cold outside, beginning to get dark, they were on the floor of a cheap apartment with creaky floorboards and temperamental water pressure, and the situation might have seemed sucky to anyone else, but for seem reason Dean couldn’t explain, he wasn’t sure he could be happier.

Cas looked up at him fondly. He would never tire of seeing Dean smile, of seeing him happy and laughing and content. “I love you,” Cas whispered on impulse, not fighting the hands holding him down, or wanting to go anywhere for that matter.

Dean was mildly surprised for a moment, then smiled again. “I love you too, you ginormous dork.” He let Cas’s wrists go and leaned down, capturing Cas’s lips in a kiss and cupping underneath his head to pull him up. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean, kissing him hard. But there was nothing hurried about the kiss, nothing too needy or fevered, just a simple desire to be close to the other, to hold them and feel them and make them happy.

Cas sighed into it, tilting his head to kiss Dean. They leaned back a bit, still wrapped in the blankets from the couch, so that Cas was flat on his back again, Dean laid out across him.

They didn’t really notice when the kissing just turned into tired snuggling on the floor, or when the snuggling turned into them falling asleep. But they did end up asleep, curled up together on the hard floor with only the blanket as a cushion. There were smiles on both of their faces and they were wrapped around each other like there was no place they would rather be than curled up uncomfortably in a cold apartment together, hands intertwined and hearts beating nearly in sync.


	21. Chapter 21

They lived their lives in a sort of ordered chaos that might confuse anyone else, but they were used to it, used to weaving around each other throughout the day, adjusting and changing or following old habits.

They woke up together generally, with the light streaming through the blinds in their bedroom, the broken ones they kept meaning to replace but never did.

When Dean woke up first, he would wake Cas through small touches, kisses to his arm, his collar bone, his back, maybe his stomach, fingers trailing lightly along his skin and arms wound tight around Cas. Cas would stir slowly, smiling even before he was conscious, stretching in Dean’s arms and catching his tickling fingers, holding tightly on to him and returning the affectionate gestures until they were both fully awake and anywhere between happily giggling and chasing each other out of bed, and sliding out from under the sheets together, blissfully peaceful and calm.

When Cas would wake up first, he didn’t like to get Dean up immediately. He would prop himself up on an elbow, hand running tiredly through his hair, and look down at Dean. Somehow he always seemed to find Dean beautiful like this. He generally was happy, but sleeping like that, there was a smoothness to his features, an innocence and lack of stress that he barely had the chance to have when he was awake. So Cas would watch him for a while. Sometimes, Dean would wake before Cas did anything, and would throw a pillow at him with feigned annoyance. Though he would always follow up with kisses, rained down all over Cas’s face. Sometimes, Cas would wake Dean on purpose, often by playing with his hair, or tracing his features, enjoying trailing his fingers around the edge of Dean’s mouth or brushing along his eyelashes. Dean would catch his hand and pull him down, kissing him thoroughly and waking them both up completely.

They had bad mornings too, of course, where one of them was upset about something or not in the mood to even be touched, but they were few and far between, and they moved past it.

There were lazy mornings and rushed mornings. Dean and Cas preferred the former, of course, enjoying puttering around the house getting ready, eating breakfast together, talking or sometimes not talking. Once they managed to get out of bed, they were both a little zombified before the morning coffee. One of them would plop down at the stools they had by the counter, and the other would go switch on the coffee maker, coming to sit down by their boyfriend until the little noisy machine beeped and the coffee could be retrieved.

When there was time, they had breakfast. Dean loved cooking, and they had eggs in many different ways, along with bacon when they could afford it, maybe some toast or fruit or something too. On rushed days, they might grab a bagel or some toast on the way out the door.

They had classes essentially every day of the week, at varying times, and often didn’t see each other until lunch. A few days out of the week, they had time to go back to their apartment together, and Dean would make sandwiches or burgers or something else. When they couldn’t, they would meet on the campus somewhere to eat. Their favorite spot was a big tree near the middle of campus. It was cool and shady and didn’t often have other people around it, so they would spread out their jackets on the damp grass to sit on, open their lunchboxes, and eat in the shade. Then with a loving kiss they would go their separate ways again.

Evenings were extremely varied. There was homework, different times coming home, work, and even sporadic lectures from teachers occasionally. Evenings were unpredictable at times, and so when they were home together, they made use of the time they had, whether it was falling asleep curled in each other’s arms or something more.

Once, Dean came to the library when Cas was working and he wasn’t, but though they enjoyed it quite a lot, Cas’s boss was rather unamused when Cas kept disappearing and then reappearing far too long later looking disheveled. He got a bit of a scolding on proper workplace behavior, which he took sheepishly, and they decided that maybe Dean shouldn’t really come into his work anymore.

“Am I too  _distracting_ ,” Dean whispered, mouthing behind Cas’s ear in an empty aisle of bookcases.

“ _Yes_ ,” Cas answered, struggling to resist his handsy boyfriend and remain coherent. “You have to go.”

“Fine,” Dean sighed, drawing back with an exaggerated look of disappointment. “If you insist. But you’re paying for it later.” He drew Cas in for another long kiss, making sure he looked very disheveled, hair and shirt very thoroughly messed up.

“On that note, maybe you should stay,” Cas panted lightly, eyes still closed and still hanging onto Dean.

“Nope, I’m going. You had your chance,” Dean teased, removing Cas’s hands from him and dancing away down the row of books.

Cas made a disappointed noise and sighed, then said, before Dean was out of earshot. “You better make good on that promise, Winchester.”

“You can count on it, angel,” Dean replied with a wink, turning the corner and being lost from sight.

Cas got quite the glare from his boss at the front desk at the state of him, but was too happy to be bothered by it.

Dean did a very good job keeping his promise that night.

 

 

They had a sort of routine then, varied as it was. Sometimes interruptions were not welcome, such as when Dean had gotten called in for an extra couple shifts because someone had failed to show up. But other times, the interruptions were very welcome.

They had been relaxing after lunch one Sunday, nothing left to do for the day, when there had come a knock on the door.

“You wanna get that?” Dean asked with a yawn. But Cas turned his pleading look on Dean, the one that never seemed to fail, and Dean got up with a groan and a sigh. “Fine, I’ll get it, you big baby.”

“Thank you Dean,” Cas said sweetly, giving Dean a light swat on the butt as he passed.

“Asshole,” Dean muttered affectionately as he unlocked the door and opened it, revealing the smiling face of his mother.

“Uh, mom? What are you doing here?” Dean stood in the doorway, bewildered.

“Surprise visit!” she exclaimed, pulling him into a hug that was nearly bone crushing.

“Mom, you can’t just-” Dean began to protest.

“I brought food,” Mary said with a barely suppressed laugh.

Dean pretended to considerer it. “Fine, you can come in.”

“I’m here too, you know.” Sam piped up from behind Mary.

Dean looked at him. “Jesus, Sam, ever considered _not_ growing to be the size of an actual moose?”

Sam rolled his eyes. He was a lot taller than he had been the last time Dean saw him a few months ago. Kid was going through a growth spurt.

“Well, come in then,” Dean told them, stepping to the side. They entered, Sam getting a small smack upside the head which made his hair (which was beginning to get shaggy) flip in such a way that had Dean laughing hard, and Sam just glared at him, of course.

“Hello, Mary,” Cas called as they came in, from where he still sat on the couch, feet up and a book in his hands. He got up as the three of them came into the room.

“Hello, Castiel dear. How are you?” Mary asked as she swept Cas up into a giant hug, just as she had done to Dean previously.

“Very good,” Cas grunted, “Having a hard time breathing though.”

Laughing, Mary released him and walked over to the table, where she let her bag onto it fall heavily. “Now, I don’t see you boys nearly enough. You need to come down more.”

“Sorry mom,” Dean grinned, watching her sort through her bag. Sam, meanwhile had plopped down on the couch and was fiddling with his phone.

“You should be sorry,” Mary admonished, mostly joking, “But this time it was too much and we came up to see you! We will be visiting and talking and catching up, and I’m making dinner for you two. You’re looking underfed.”

Dean and Cas exchanged smiles at Mary’s demanding air. “Whatever you say, mom,” Dean told her, then turned his attention to Sam as Cas went to help Mary. “Watcha doin'?”

“None of your business,” Sam told him, not looking away from the screen, typing away.

“Texting Jess?” Dean asked teasingly.

Sam’s scarlet face was enough of an answer for him, though the younger Winchester still attempted to dissuade Dean, giving a strangled, “No.”

Dean rolled his eyes and approached his little brother. Leaning over, he snatched the phone from Sam, dashing away as Sam yelled at him to give it back. Sam managed to grab at Dean’s back and pull him a little, so they ended up wrestling on the couch.

“Dean! Give it back!” Sam said desperately, struggling with his brother.

“What’s this say?” Dean asked around his laughter, “She misses you? Aw how sweet, Moose has himself a girlfriend.”

“Dean!” Mary reproached her eldest son.

Sam managed to finally retrieve the phone, jumping back to the far corner of the couch.

Dean raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. But once you get over your girliness, I want to hear about this girl. No joking.” He did sound serious, not unkind at all, just like a big brother that was being an idiot, and with a sigh, Sam internally forgave him for being an ass.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled, tucking the phone into his pocket and stretching his feet out across Dean and Cas’s coffee table. But it was followed with an embarrassed and almost proud smile.

 

“You really like this girl, huh?” Dean asked quietly, no longer teasing at all, and Sam looked into his brother’s face, which was open and kind in a way that he never would have seen when the two of them were growing up together.

“Yeah,” Sam replied with a shy smile.

Dean nodded approvingly, and the conversation soon moved on to other topics. Cas came over and settled himself on Dean’s lap, and Mary sat down on the couch too. They talked for a while, laughing and teasing and catching up. Mary asked after them and their schoolwork, which they told her the truth about. They were exhausted but happy, and Mary smiled and nodded sympathetically.

When the time came, Mary got up to cook, dragging Dean with her, and when it was done, the four of them sat down to eat the meal Mary had brought over, which consisted of steak and an assortment of other yummy pieces.

When they left, it had been dark for a little, and Dean and Cas waved them away from the door of their apartment, closing the door and getting some much needed rest.


	22. Chapter 22

When Dean came home one Thursday night, the apartment felt weird. He couldn’t put his finger on it at first. Was it too quiet? Too dark? Too lifeless? But the answer slowly crept into his bones as he came in.

“Cas,” he called out, ignoring the faintest trace of uneasiness that was in his voice. Cas was here, home, okay, of course he was. He got home first on Thursdays, and at least shot Dean a text if he was going to be late.

But as he stepped further into the house and dropped his bag on the couch, toed off his shoes, walked into the living room, without getting a hint of an answer, the uneasiness grew until it was eating a hole through him.

“Cas?” he called out again, this time not expecting an answer but still hoping to receive one. Maybe Cas was here, around the corner waiting to surprise him, waiting to sling his arms around Dean’s neck and give him a kiss.

Dean worried at his lip with his teeth, walking through the apartment looking for Cas, and not finding him. Maybe he just forgot to call me, or left his phone somewhere. I’m sure he’s fine. But the gnawing worry inside him told a different story, one that filled him with irrational dread.

He was still vainly searching through the house, about ten minutes after he had gotten home, when he heard the answering machine on their phone beep. Dean rushed over, feeling relief warm his limbs again. Of course, Cas left a message here, I was so stupid for worrying.

He picked up the phone and pressed the button to hear the one message that was left.

“One new message,” the monotone computer voice said, “Today, eleven forty three, AM.”

Dean tapped his toe impatiently as the beep sounded and he waited to hear Cas’s voice, probably flustered, leaving him a message.

But what he got instead was a woman, cool and clinical, calling to inform him about a patient that had been admitted, (“Casteel Novak,” she said boredly) that afternoon to the local hospital, and that this number was the one on file with his medical records. There was no information given other than that the condition wasn’t critical.

Dean set the phone down when the message ended after giving the number of the hospital. He felt numb, like he couldn’t feel his face or his hands, and he stood there lamely for a minute, processing.

Cas

All of a sudden, Dean woke, the reality of whatever was going on hitting him like a punch to the gut. He gasped and clutched his arms across his stomach, blinking rapidly to dispel the moisture threatening his eyes. Dean stumbled a little, heading towards the door, just remembering to grab his keys and slip on his shoes on the way out.

The drive over, he was focused, the blood pounding through his ears as he tried to drown out the army of thoughts crowding through his head. He couldn’t let himself succumb to them, because if he did he would crumble, fall to the floor and never get up. So he grit his teeth and focused on the fact that it wasn’t life threatening. Cas wasn’t dying, just…. he didn’t know. Injured? Sick? It could be anything. The thought made him grip the wheel harder and push just a little more with his foot, silently urging to just get there. He could only hold everything back for so long.

Dean arrived at the hospital in record time, though to him it felt like it could have been hours. He parked a little carelessly and half walked, half jogged into the lobby.

“I’m here to see Castiel Novak,” Dean said quickly, as soon as he came up to the desk.

The man at the desk looked up tiredly. “Yes, hold on a moment sir. Your name?”

“Dean Winchester. Do you think you could tell me what happened?” Dean drummed his fingers impatiently as the man clicked through something on his computer.

The man glanced at him again, a trace of sympathy in his eyes. “That isn’t something I can tell you.” Then he looked back to his computer and hummed a little, not speaking again until he had found what he was looking for.

“Room 221, second floor. Now, if you could just sign in,” he handed up a clipboard with a sign in sheet to Dean.

Dean grabbed it and scribbled in his information as quickly as legibly possible, handed it back, and with a rushed, “Thank you,” was off to the elevator.

He jabbed the up button, and tried not to get too worked up as he waited agonizingly for the light to flash on and for the doors to slide open. A few people came out of the compartment as Dean climbed on, and he hurriedly pressed the button for the second floor, glaring at the doors as they closed, much too slowly for his liking.

But at last he was out of the elevator and pushing open the heavy hospital door with a neat little 221 on the plate set into it. And there was Cas laying in the bed. His face was pale and his eyes were closed, he looked to be asleep, and Dean watched weakly from the doorway as his chest rose and fell, slowly and shallowly and a little bit painfully.

Dean came into the room and sat down in the chair quietly, resting his elbows on his knees and placing his chin on his hands, watching Cas carefully, like he could tell what was wrong and fix it if only he looked hard enough.

There was a tube in Cas’s arm, which made Dean shudder, and a faint, quiet beeping was coming from a machine at the side. Cas’s hands rested over the sheets, looking cold and clammy. On impulse, Dean snatched one up and began warming up the fingers, rubbing them in his hand lightly.

He heard the crisp sheets crinkle, and heard a tiny intake of breathe. Dean looked up from where he had been staring at their hands only to be met with Cas open eyes, a little glassy and watery.

“Hey,” Dean croaked out, swallowing dryly. He got a better grip on Cas’s hand, so that they were holding hands, and shifted his chair up closer to Cas’s head, leaning forward and putting his elbows onto the bed.

“Dean,” Cas’s voice was hoarse, and saying the word sent him onto a small fit of hacking coughs.

“Cas, are you okay? Breathe, angel. Cas?” Dean’s hands fluttered nervously around Cas, not sure what to do, how to help.

“I’m fine Dean,” Cas said weakly after he had regained control of his lungs.

Dean glared at him. “You are not fine, you idiot. How did this happen? What’s happened to you?” His tone turned very swiftly from irritated to soft and concerned. He wasn’t able to stay even the slightest bit annoyed with Cas like this.

Cas took one last hacking cough, and spat something out into a tissue from a box by his bed, cleared his throat and began to talk in a marginally more normal voice. It was still sore and raspy.

“Well, this morning I felt a little odd-”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?” Dean interrupted.

Cas reached up to tiredly push Dean’s hair back affectionately. “I didn’t want to worry you over nothing.”

“Obviously it wasn’t nothing. And even if it was, you should have told me.” Dean unconsciously squeezed Cas’s hand harder and bit his lip.

“I know.” Cas whispered, looking away for a moment, and then returning to his explanation. “Well today in my classes, I began to feel worse, and-”

“And you still didn’t call me?”

“Dean, stop interrupting,” Cas glared at him.

Dean nodded, and his expression returned back to one of pained worry.

“And a little before lunch, well, apparently I passed out.” Cas sighed, and began to cough again.

“Passed… Jesus Christ, Cas,” Dean rubbed his face with his hands, massaging his temples slightly. They hadn’t had lunch together that day, Dean had to go in for an experiment in the labs during that time. So he hadn’t even known.

Cas continued. “And so they took me here.” He gulped. “And I waited for you to come and I fell asleep. I guess you finished your classes first.” He wasn’t looking at Dean anymore, and his voice was tight. Dean had the awful feeling he was doing his best to not cry.

“What are you talking about Cas?” Dean furrowed his eyebrows, trying to understand.

Cas looked back at him, a faint spark in his eye. “I was in the hospital for hours, Dean, before you managed to show up.” He extracted his hand from Dean’s, and shoved both of them under the thin blanket.

Then it clicked. “Cas,” Dean said, then again, “Cas, look at me.” Cas did, albeit reluctantly. “They only called the house. I came as soon as I knew. Don’t you ever dare think I wouldn’t drop everything for you in a heartbeat, no matter what, okay?”

He watched as the tears spilled from Cas’s eyes and a half laugh, half sob came out of him, mixed with more coughing. Dean leaned over as best he could, gathering Cas into a hug and pulling him as close as they could in the awkward position. Cas’s shoulders began to shake slightly, and Dean rubbed his back, feeling himself begin to cry too as something occurred to him.

“I’d never leave you alone anywhere again, please tell me you know that.” Dean whispered, burying his face in Cas’s neck and gripping him harder.

Cas made a painful noise and nodded, and Dean knew he had hit it. “Shh...” he said softly, kissing Cas behind the ear. “I’ve got you.”

Eventually, Cas calms down, and begins to laugh, that sad, exhausted, relieved laugh people get after they go through something. But then he began to cough again, nearly doubling over with it, and Dean stood there anxiously rubbing his back until he could breathe again. Cas wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and leaned back onto the pillows.

“So wait, Cas,” Dean says, realizing something. Cas opens his eyes again to look at Dean questioningly. “What even happened to you? Like, what’s wrong with you?”

“They think it’s pneumonia,” Cas says with a grimace. “I can probably go home tomorrow, and I’ll be better in a few weeks. Technically, I didn’t even need to come here, except I passed out. It’s not too serious. I’ll be fine.”

Dean nodded, relieved, and sank back into the chair, resting his head on his arms, which he folded and leaned on Cas’s bed as his boyfriend went back to sleep.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! This one's a bit longer, and a bit late for the occasion, but better late than never, right?  
> Hehe... well anyways here you go.
> 
> And a big thanks to my beta bennycumbercutie for being super awesome and stuff! ♡♡
> 
> Ooh we broke 40k! This is amazing! Thanks all of you for the support. ^.^

Cas did come home the next day, after he had regained some strength. Dean fussed over him the whole time, which at times Cas found annoying, but mostly he was touched, and enjoyed Dean being such a mother hen. It was sweet.  Annabelle was very glad to see Cas. When he had been gone, she had hid under their bed the whole time, silently, but as soon as Cas came home, the little cat had purred and meowed loudly, rubbing all over both of their feet, and had sat with Cas almost the whole time when Dean was reluctantly away at class.

They had put him on antibiotics, and after about a week and a half, Cas was back at work and going to class, previously having to have Dean get all his work from his teachers. But the whole time, Dean had made sure he was confined to bed, keeping him warm and bringing him soup and generally being adorably overprotective, in Cas’s eyes. But eventually Cas was feeling much better, and had to make Dean stop. There was only so much coddling he could take. And soon enough, they were back to the regular routine.

 

"Really mom?” Dean asked over the phone, just barely keeping the whine from his voice. "Do you really need me to come to this?"

"Yes, Dean," she said evenly. "You're part of this family and you’re coming this year. And that's final. I'll see you and Cas tomorrow at three."

And with that she hung up, leaving Dean standing there holding the phone and wearing a grimace.

 

"Who was that?" Cas called from the other room.

"My mom," Dean grunted.

"And what did she want?" Cas prompted patiently, seeing that Dean was reluctant to elaborate.

Dean heaved an exaggerated sigh. "She wants us to come down for Thanksgiving."

"We should." Cas came into where Dean was, wiping his hands on his pants from where he had been doing something in the kitchen.

"Really," Dean complained. "I thought you'd be on my side here."

"You don't want to go?" Cas came up to him and leaned on the wall with his shoulder, observing his uncomfortable boyfriend.

"You know I don't. You know how I don't like Thanksgiving." Dean looked away and folded his arms. 

Cas sighed. "Yeah I know. I was just hoping you might have changed your mind."

Dean just made an angry sort of grunt.

Cas rolled his eyes at Dean's stubbornness and pushed off the wall, coming up to Dean and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "We're going."

"Cas-" Dean started to say, but Cas just turned back from where he was walking away and gave Dean a look that shut him up immediately.

"We're going," Cas said again, firmly.  "So deal with it, Dean."

Dean didn't answer as Cas left the room, going back to finish putting the food in the oven for dinner. 

Dean didn't like Thanksgiving. He never had, at least as far as he pretended to remember.  There was a memory from when he had been maybe less than five. (When Mom was there, his brain whispered to him). But on the road with Dad, they never really had the holiday. What would be the point? Dean wasn't sure he would have had much to be thankful for anyways. His brother. Their car. Pie? His list was much longer now of course, but his aversion to the holiday remained. He couldn't really imagine anything much worse than sitting at the table for hours with people, forced to talk and socialize, reminisce about life and good times together. He didn't have any good times to remember, he thought bitterly (which was of course not true, but it didn't stop him thinking it). He didn't feel as he belonged at the table with a family. He’d rather just have a quiet dinner with Cas, some turkey and a pie.

These last couple of years, he’d avoided Thanksgiving, even when he had his mom back. No one had forced him. But it seemed that this year was make Dean go to the awful family Thanksgiving year, and Dean really was not liking it. But he knew, despite his grumblings and complaints, if Cas wanted him to go, he was going. He knew he’d do anything for Cas, even if it was just some stupid dinner for a holiday.

 

 

The next day, Dean and Cas set out from their apartment a little after lunch, with just enough time so that they got there when Mary had told them. Dean had been glowering the entire day, and Cas had been staunchly ignoring it, smiling brightly and wearing a stupid (adorable) sweater with a turkey on it. Dean couldn’t decide if he hated it or loved it.

“Goodbye, my dear,” Cas said, rubbing the top of Annabelle’s head. “We’ll see you soon. Be a good girl.”

She meowed at him, her little mouth opening up to display her needle sharp teeth. With another soft meow, she turned her tail on them and left the room. Dean shook his head. “That cat, man. It’s like she understands you.”

Cas stood and rolled his eyes, walking past Dean. “No cat is psychic, Dean.”

“I know,” Dean followed Cas out the door and watched as he locked it. “But she’d never do what I tell her.”

“Maybe she just doesn’t like you,” Cas teased, stowing the keys in his pocket.

“Me?” Dean opened his eyes up wide, laughter in them, “How could anyone not like me?”

“I don’t know Dean,” Cas said sarcastically, but with a smile. He stood just slightly on his tiptoes to give Dean a kiss. “Ready to go?”

“Ugh,” Dean groaned.

“Come on.” Cas grabbed his hands and pulled him down the hall.

 

 

When they arrived, Cas knocked, and Sam opened the door. He had smile on his face surprisingly, as he had never liked the holiday either.

“Hey Dean, Cas! Happy Thanksgiving!” Sam smiled.

“What’s got you so happy, sasquatch?” Dean laughed at Sam a little.

As he said that, a girl appeared behind Sam, and slung her arms around his neck, peering over his shoulder. She was on her tiptoes, being much shorter than Sam, and barely had her chin on his shoulder. She had a head full of fairly curly blond hair, and a kind, freckled face. She was pretty.

“Hey Sam,” the girl said brightly, “This your brother and his man?”

“Yeah,” Sam turned and pulled her forward a bit, putting an arm around her and holding her to his side. “This is Dean and Cas.”

Cas was surprised. Dean’s eyebrows were still somehow on his face considering how high Dean was raising them. Sam saw his brother’s expression and laughed a little.

“Dean, Cas, this is Jess.”

“I’m his girlfriend,” she added, grinning.

“Girlfriend, huh,” Dean turned incredulously to Sam. “You didn’t tell me she was your girlfriend now.”

Sam looked away sheepishly. “It was supposed to be a surprise.” He looked up, suddenly worried. “Uh… surprise?”

Dean seemed to regain control of himself, as he shook off the surprise and began to smile. Cas could see the suppressed pride, and smiled too. “Good for you, Sam,” Dean said, and Sam smiled too.

“Uh, can we come inside now?” Cas interjected. “It’s freezing out here.”

“Oh, right, right,” Sam got out of the doorway with Jess, and the two men came into the house.

“Hey, boys,” Mary called from somewhere in the house. “Glad you made it.”

“Didn’t give me a choice,” Dean grumbled under his breath. Cas smacked him lightly on the arm. “What?”

“Try to at least pretend to have a good attitude?” Cas glared at him.

Dean held his gaze for a few moments before rolling his eyes away. “Yeah whatever.”

Cas made an annoyed huff sound, and pulled Dean into the kitchen, where they found Mary directing Bobby, who was cooking the turkey. She turned as they came in, leaving Bobby to his devices, and enveloped them in a giant hug.

“Good to see you two here finally,” She said quietly, and Dean felt a pang of something that may have been regret for how he acted about this holiday all these years. The tone in his mother’s voice just then began to remind him about what this holiday was supposed to be. When she released him, his smile was genuine instead of sarcastic, though it was a bit sad.

“Now,” Mary clapped her hands. “You boys take a seat at the table, we’re serving the first dishes soon.”

Dean was never one to say no to food, no matter how much he disapproved of the occasion, and so he hurriedly pulled Cas with him to the table. They took two of the seats next to each other, and Sam and Jess sat down with them. Dean began to do his big brotherly duty of teasing Sam incessantly while still finding a way to approve of Jess. He liked the girl, she was smart and funny and had a spark in her. She and Sam seemed to fit together, and watching them made Dean happy. He forgot he was supposed to be having a bad time, and by the time the mashed potatoes and the green beans came out, he had a grin on his face and a warm feeling in his heart.

There were conversation filled hours of slow eating that went by, and Dean found himself not loathing it. In fact, he found that he had a lot to talk about, and even when he didn’t, he enjoyed listening to the others talk. He was surrounded by family, his mother and Cas and his brother, Bobby and Jess. A little after Dean and Cas had arrived, Chuck had even showed up, and he sat at the end of the table next to Cas, every now and then cracking a tired smile, and sometimes pitching in too. Dean just felt a faint pang of sadness that he did his very best to ignore. Only his father was missing. He remembered better now, the good thanksgivings. John had been happy. Dean had almost forgotten his father before the days of him hunting down the people who had taken Mary. He found himself wishing that their father was there with them. He missed him. But it didn’t do to dwell on that when he was actually happy like this, and so he didn’t let himself.

Once the turkey came out of the oven, Bobby carried it out and laid it on the table, steaming and smelling heavenly. Mary cut it and everyone served themselves. Dean heaped a giant amount of the meat on his plate, and began to dig in. once everyone was a decent way through their portions, Mary spoke up.

“We should say what we’re thankful for.”

Dean gulped. He didn’t like this part, trying to narrow down his priorities to a small list of things to say he was thankful for. It was stressful.

“I’ll start,” Mary continued, and took a deep breath before starting. “I’m thankful for all of you, especially for my boys. I’m thankful that I am here today with all of you celebrating this holiday, and for all of us being together for the first time ever. I’m thankful for our world and the sunlight, for flowers and little kindnesses, for life and friends and love and stories.”

There was silence, everyone mulling over what she had said. There were some darker implications to the beginning of what she had said, and Dean definitely felt guilty this time, about not agreeing to do this with her before. No one really knew how to follow that.

“I’m thankful for my friends and my family,” Jess started, “and I know that’s stereotypical and cheesy to say, but it’s true. I’m thankful for all of you, how welcoming you are of me, and for Sam and for everything else good in my life.” She smiled and leaned over to peck Sam on the cheek, ignoring Dean’s quiet whistle.

“I’m thankful for you idjits, I suppose,” was all they got out of Bobby. Short and to the point, it fit the old man well, and Dean found himself smiling at it.

Sam and Chuck went after that, neither of their lists very long either, but both sincere.

“I’m thankful for Dean,” was how Cas started out immediately, “and for the rest of you for becoming my family in a way. I’m thankful for everything in the world, for bees and hamburgers and books and scarves and so many things. But mostly I am thankful that I have Dean, and that we all have each other.”

Dean smiled, until he realized that everyone was looking at him. He was the last person to go, and it was his turn. They were waiting. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Umm…” Cas squeezed his hand under the table, and that pushed him on. “I’m thankful for, having mom back,” he averted his eyes, staring at his empty plate and wracking his brain. “For Bobby taking us in, for my car, for pie,” that brought out a chuckle from the group, and egged Dean on. This was getting easier. “I’m thankful for food and air and the house and sunlight, and for basically like everything. I’m thankful for my moose of a brother, I guess,” he grinned at Sam, “and for all my friends and family, and for everyone, both here and not.” His voice quieted there, meaning settling heavy in the words. “And lastly, of course, I am thankful for Cas.” He smiled at their hands, which rested on Dean’s thigh. “For everything about him, for him putting up with my sorry ass all the time, for his stupid obsession with bees and his smile and his hands and that look he gets in his eyes,” there, Dean looked up to see Cas giving him exactly the look he had meant, the one that scared Dean sometimes because it was like Dean was his world, and Dean barely knew what to do with that. “I’m thankful for you, Cas. I Love you.”

“I love you too, Dean,” Cas smiled, and Dean could imagine he was glowing from the inside with the brightness of his smile, of his soul. Dean hadn’t really believed in souls, that was until he had seen Cas like this. He imagined he could see Cas’s soul, and he was beautiful. Cas leaned forward to give him the chastest of kisses (they were still at the dinner table after all), and then Dean felt as if he could feel Cas’s soul too, warm and bright and wrapping Dean’s own in light.

 

 

When they left that night to go home, Dean felt as if he understood the holiday so much better than he ever had. It wasn’t supposed to be about painful family gatherings and awful pilgrim hats and stupid turkeys with a cheesy list of things you were supposed to be thankful for. It wasn’t supposed to be broken and painful, like he always had used to feel. It was warm and bright and happy when done right, and Dean knew he would look forward to it the next year.

He gave everyone huge hugs on the way out the door, including Jess. He tried to convey with each hug how he felt somehow, how now he understood, and how much he cared. And Dean felt as if they understood, for the most part. They left with quite a few leftovers, which Dean was looking forward to eating (especially the pie, of course). Before they got in the car, he kissed Cas again, better this time than before. This one was full of feeling, all the things Dean had been trying to convey in his hugs to the others.

“You glad I made you go?” Cas asked, smiling.

“Yeah, I actually am,” Dean admitted happily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I'm a liar. I have no idea when updates will be. Not too far apart though.


	24. Chapter 24

There was one night in December that year where waking up was different. Dean frowned as he slowly gained consciousness. It was too dark, too cold. He opened his eyes to find that there was no sunlight coming through their cracked blinds. He raised his head, confused at the lack of the familiar feeling. The movement unintentionally woke Cas, who blinked his eyes open wearily and raised his disheveled bed head to see what Dean was doing.  
"Dean?" Cas asked sleepily. "What's up?" He rubbed at his eyes.  
"Cas, sorry I woke you up it's just..." he trailed off, his thoughts not quite caught up to his observation.  
"It's dark why are you awake?" Cas yawned.  
"It's morning," Dean answered unhelpfully, with a glance at the clock to confirm. He squinted at the window. "And..."  
"Something is blocking the window," Cas said suddenly, looking alert. He climbed out of bed, leaving the already cold bed colder next to Dean.  
"Huh?"  
Cas pulled aside what was left of the blinds to reveal what was wrong with the light and the window, and they both stopped and stared at what they saw.  
"Is that," Dean said quietly, a hint of excitement in his voice.  
"I believe it is," Cas answered solemnly. Then he turned around slowly, a grin growing on his face. "We've been snowed in."  
They were on the ground floor, so the snow had piled up to just above their windows during the night. They weren't entirely trapped, as they could go out into the hallway of the apartment building, but they couldn't go farther than that, as the front door and all other exits were entirely blocked by the thick white drifts.  
"It's a shame we can't even get out to play in it," Cas sighed, staring longingly at the darkened window.  
"You're such a kid," Dean laughed, ruffling Cas's hair as he passed by him.  
Cas rolled his eyes. "I know you want to as well, Dean, don't try to hide it from me."  
"Yeah you're right, I do." Dean admitted, coming to sit down next to Cas, with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. The house was cold, as the heater had never been very good to begin with, and it was getting progressively colder. Dean lifted up one side of the blanket and Cas scooted in next to him, getting wrapped up in the combined warmth of Dean and the blanket.   
"Maybe it will have cleared up enough tomorrow." Cas mused.  
"Yeah maybe." Dean sighed. " But that would probably mean we have to go to school."  
"Ew, school," Cas laughed. "You're probably right. At least we have today off. Think classes are canceled?"  
"Definitely."  
"Awesome." Cas yawned and buried his cold nose in Dean's neck, just as Dean started to laugh. "What's so funny?" Cas mumbled into Dean.  
"I dunno. It's just that normally I'm the one who says that. Awesome I mean."  
"Why is that funny?"  
"I don't know," Dean admitted, shrugging a little, and then laughing a bit more, just cause he could.  
"I'm cold," Cas told him, shivering and pulling his feet in.  
"Well no wonder," Dean pulled him in closer. "You're not wearing any socks and its freezing outside and in."  
"Don't like socks," Cas grouched.  
Dean was a little exasperated. "Well you kinda need them when it's like this."  
With another little shiver, Cas pulled away and got up, "fine," he said, disappearing into their bedroom. He returned a little later with a fluffy sweater, a powder blue one that he had gotten for Christmas the previous year, and a pair of Dean's thick socks.  
"Better?" Dean asked, amused.  
Cas shook his head and plopped down on the couch, grabbing another blanket and swaddling himself in it. He curled his legs up next to him and hunkered down a bit, so that only his face stuck out from the blanket cocoon. He reminded Dean somehow of a grumpy old bear, holed up in his cave for the winter.  
"I know what we need!" Dean exclaimed, jumping up. To answer Cas's inquisitive look, he told him, "hot chocolate!"  
Cas grinned at that, "that sounds wonderful. I'll stay here and you'll make us some, right?"  
"Lazy ass," Dean laughed, dropping a kiss on Cas's cold nose as he passed him on his way to the kitchen.   
"You love my lazy ass," Cas called after him.  
"Yeah, yeah," Dean taunted from the kitchen, the sound of drawers opening and closing coming from in there. "Where is the.... oh here it is." The microwave beeped as Dean set it, and they both waited in a happy silence as the water was heated up.  
Soon enough, Dean came back into the living room where Cas was bundled up, holding two steaming mugs of instant hot cocoa. He settled down next to Cas carefully, snuggling into his side and handing his boyfriend one if the mugs. Cas took it with his cold hands gingerly, hissing at the warmth.  
"Thank you," he said simply, holding his face over the steaming mug and feeling the heat radiate off of it, returning feeling to his hands and face.  
Dean slung an arm around Cas and kissed him sweetly on the cheek. He rubbed at Cas's shoulder, feeling his shivering slowly stop as Cas warmed up from the combined effort of the hot cocoa and the blanket and socks. Dean grabbed the remote and flipped the TV on, just to see what was playing. He settled on some mindless reality show they could pass the time with and ignore.   
Eventually, they both were warm and toasty, bundled up cuddling together and laughing at the bad jokes and acting on the TV. They passed the day away like that, just snuggling and entertaining themselves and being cozy. It was wonderful. At one point, they made a fort out of the blankets on their bed, declaring it their castle within a castle, and ruling it as such. They were the kings, and laughed so hard they probably disturbed the neighbors. But they honestly didn't care. It was all great fun.  
They went to bed that night tucked up under about three times as many blankets as normal. Though they had found a way to be warm, their heater had only made the house colder throughout the day, and they enjoyed pressing up next to each other under the blankets, sharing warmth and staying away from the freezing air.  
They whispered happy I love you's to each other groggily before they went to sleep that night, happy and relaxed.  
When they woke up the next morning, there was a light coming into their window as was normal, and Dean sighed inside, knowing that this meant that they had to return to reality. But it would be nice to get out, probably. And hopefully be warm without the aid of four layers of blankets.  
And they most definitely did have a childish wonderful snowball fight in front of the apartment complex on their way to the car that morning, sliding into the impala laughing and shaking light bits of snow from their hair.  
The snow lasted well past Christmas and into the New Year, drying up a little before Dean's birthday at the end of January. Meanwhile, the time was full of end of the year exams, fun Christmas activities that Dean got surprisingly involved in, and a ridiculous amount of snowball fights. They made snowmen in the parking lot that they ran over carefully with the car, they built snow forts and snow castles and shook snow from the branches of their favorite trees. They hit each other with snowballs and cubes and sometimes unpleasant blobs if slush. They drew patterns in the frost of the car windows, and hat quite a lot of hot chocolate.  
Cas's favorite night was when one in particular, when the snow came down carefully, dropping perfectly formed crystal like snowflakes all over them. He caught snowflake after snowflake, letting them land on his gloved fingers momentarily and watching, enraptured, as they quickly melted away. Dean liked the snowflakes too of course, they were pretty awesome, but the thing he got the most joy out of was watching how happy Cas was. He saw him run around in the snow, just awed by him somehow. Sometimes, Dean randomly came up to Cas and hugged him or kissed him, holding him tight and telling him how much he loved him. Cas would reciprocate, mildly confused but mostly happy. Dean would laugh and chase him in the snow, tackling him into the white puffs and sprinkling cold snow into his collar. He apologized about that part later though, when he was helping Cas get warm back inside. But Cas always seemed to get back at him, often with a scarily well aimed snowball square in the middle of Dean's back, and sometimes to his face.  
The night of the perfect snowflakes, Cas had grabbed Dean when he saw what was happening outside of their window, and had dragged him outside, barely consenting when Dean forced him to stop and put on a jacket and gloves and a scarf and boots.   
"You'll freeze and get sick and die, Cas, so just hold your goddamn horses and put on the stupid scarf."  
Cas did so hurriedly, and when he was pulling Dean outside, who still had his hat and his gloves in his hand, Cas's jacket was buttoned wrong, the scarf was askew, and the gloves were barely on his fingers. He rushed out the door, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to turn in a slow circle. The flakes fell around him. One landed on his head, well a couple did, and Dean watched them as they slowly melted, the freezing water soaking into Cas's hair.  
"It's so beautiful," Cas breathed, stopping and holding out his hand. He caught one immediately, and it disintegrated quickly, soaking into his glove.  
"Yeah," Dean agreed, glancing around with a giant grin. "It's all amazing." Cas laughed, stepping out some more and lifting his hands to the sky, which was still dropping little icy offerings on them.   
"You're amazing," Dean said under his breath, watching Cas. Seeing him like this, so happy and awed and practically radiating light, it was always amazing and beautiful to Dean, no matter how many times he saw it. In never ceased making him smile and cause his heart to grow a thousand figurative sizes.  
Dean approached Cas, who turned and waited for him, watching Dean with the same sort of expression that Dean bad been watching him moments before.  
Dean tilted his head back for a moment as he watched, seeing the little flakes drift down around him through the darkness of the night sky. Then he felt something cold and wet touch his face, and he realized as it was melting that there was a snowflake that had landed on his mouth. Cas laughed at his mildly startled expression, and leaned in to kiss the cool wetness from his lips.


	25. Chapter 25

Dean groaned and dropped his face into his hands, hiding his face from the computer screen in front of him. He was doing research for an essay that was due in a few days, he had gotten almost nowhere with it, and it was really starting to stress him out.

 

“You alright?” Cas glanced up from where he sat on their bed, reading some fat book for one of his courses. The jerk was fine with that. He loved reading. Dean on the other hand got in depth analyses on the physics of car engines and the like.

 

Dean only groaned in response, rubbing at his temples. He had been sitting at the desk in their bedroom for about an hour now, reading from various sources about the topic he was researching. He couldn’t even tell you what it really was. Something to do with sustainability and fuel.

 

“God, I’m so awful at all this,” he sighed, shaking his head but not lifting it. He heard Cas shifting on the bed behind him.

 

“Hey,” Cas said firmly, and Dean felt a warm arm snake around him. “Don’t say that. You’re brilliant.”

 

Dean scoffed and brought himself out of his hands a little bit. Cas was kneeling next to him, arm firmly around him, staring very seriously at Dean.

 

Cas narrowed his eyes. “You listen to me Dean, you are smart and amazing and brilliant, and just because some stupid class and some stupid teacher with their stupid assignments are making it seem impossible doesn’t make that true. School is a poor measure of a person’s worth, and your intelligence should most certainly not be based solely off of how you are graded on a rigid system against millions of other people that are entirely different from you.”

 

Dean looked over in surprise. He hadn’t really heard this side of Cas before. “Easy for you to say,” he griped anyways, “You’ve always gotten by perfectly well in this so called messed up system.”

 

Cas rolled his eyes. “You haven’t done so bad yourself, Dean,” he told him with a kiss on the cheek and a squeeze of the shoulders. He saw Dean’s skeptical expression this and poked him in the side, hard.

 

“Ow!”

 

“You have, and you will continue to do so. I have faith in you. You can beat their crap, as you’ve called it. Giving up and losing faith in yourself will only make everything harder. It might be awful but it is still what we must deal with in life, so suck it up and do your homework.” He let go and started to leave the room.

 

“Hey,” Dean protested, catching his sleeve. “You on my side here or not?”

 

“Both,” Cas said with laughter in his eyes. “I’m a bundle of contradictions. And you love me for it.”

 

“Asshole,” Dean muttered, letting go.

 

“Yep.” Cas planted a kiss on the top of his head, hair still messy from running his fingers through it. “Now. Homework. You’re not touching me again until you’re done.” he called back as he left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

 

“You manipulative little…” Dean spluttered.

 

“You know it,” cam the distant reply.

 

Dean growled a little and forced himself back to staring at his screen. Sustainability. Right.

 

He got it done eventually, though he managed to break Cas’s rule a few times before he finished. Turns out his boyfriend wasn’t as firm about no touching with Dean’s mouth already kissing up his neck.

 

 

 

So school inched by. Sometimes fast, sometimes slow, it really depended. Dean sailed through most of his classes, scraped by in a couple he didn’t like, but overall did very well. Cas (of course) passed most every class with flying colors, though it was not without its colossal challenges and stresses. Where Dean was a procrastinator that eventually finished everything, Cas was a planner that made sure everything was done.

 

When too stressed, Cas planned to the point of ruin, where he was so focused on the plan that the work almost didn’t get done. Dean had to intervene a few times, especially during finals week. Cas was studying almost constantly. They were running out of coffee, Dean felt like he was sleeping alone practically every night, Cas’s eyes were tired and red, and he was like a zombie obsessed with flash cards and notebooks. He would stay up into the night with a book light reading, and he would be up before Dean, only to be found on his fourth cup of coffee, reading with watery eyes at the kitchen table, wrapped in one of Dean’s sweaters and with feet tucked up under him to hide from the cool morning air.

 

 

 

“Hey Cas,” Dean said carefully from the kitchen table one night after school, watching Cas pace the room mutter at a stack of index cards in his hand.

 

“Hmmm?” Cas asked absently, flipping to the next card and making a face. He probably was not actually listening.

 

“Cas,” Dean repeated, more insistently.

 

“What?” Cas managed a full word to Dean for the first time in what felt like… well it was way too long.

 

“Cas,” Dean sighed, “look at me for a sec, okay?”

 

He did, with an irritated expression, and picked at the corner of the cards impatiently while he waited for Dean to say something.

 

“Could you put that stuff down for a minute, please?” Dean wasn’t irritated, not at all. He wanted Cas, not this weird zombie study version of him that took him over twice a year. It hurt both of them, and it was unhealthy.

 

Cas narrowed his eyes infinitesimally. “I’m studying. I need to make sure I know this or I won’t pass the exams.”

 

Dean got up. “Remember what you told me a few months ago when I was stressing out over that research paper? School is stupid and a bad measure of your intelligence or whatever, right? Don’t let it mess you up so bad.” He watched Cas’s irritation turn slightly to defeat as Dean pulled the cards from his hand and set them behind him on the table. “I know you Cas, I have watched you since kindergarten, pretty much,” That got him a smile and a little laugh, “and I know you can pass anything. You know this stuff, I promise.”

 

“But-”

 

“No. you need to stop doing this to yourself. There is a point that after you pass it studying is useless. I’m pretty sure you passed that about two weeks ago.”

 

“I hadn’t started studying two weeks ago.” Cas glared at him a little.

 

Dean pursed his lips. “Exactly my point. You’re awesome at this school stuff Cas so please,” he tried to keep the begging note from his voice,” “give yourself a break.”

 

Cas smiled tiredly. “I guess you’re right. I could use a break.”

 

“Hell yeah, I’m right.” Dean sighed internally with releif and allowed himself a small grin.

 

Cas made a quiet sound of amusement. “I love you Dean,” and with that he took a step forward and wrapped his arms around Dean in a hug that would have been stronger if he wasn’t so exhausted. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

 

“I’ll always take care of you,” Dean mumbled into his hair, the messy bed head that only got worse in these two weeks of studying hell. “No matter what. Even when you’re being a stubborn idiot.”

 

Cas laughed into his neck, then sagged a little and suppressed a yawn. “I’m really tired.”

 

Dean let go halfway and pulled him up a bit. “TV or nap?”

 

Cas shrugged. “TV.”

 

He was asleep within the first ten minutes, snoring quietly and rolled up burrito style in the one ratty blanket they had on the couch. His head was resting in Dean’s lap and his feet were tucked up almost to his chest. One arm was curled in, while the other was splayed out in front of him onto Dean’s legs, grasping slightly at the soft fabric of his sweatpants. Dean carefully ran his hand through Cas’s hair occasionally, making an efoort not to wake him but still being unable to resist. He wasn’t exactly sure which he watched more, the show on the TV or Cas.

 

Actually, in perfect honestly it was definitely Cas that he watched more of. He just looked so peaceful, so happy like that. The tension that had been building up on his face for the last ten or so days had almost completely drained away, leaving this just Cas, not overshadowed by some monster of stress or a zombie haggard with vocabulary flashcards.

 

Dean fell asleep after a while too, right there on the couch. And though they both woke up stiff and sore in the morning, it was with the other in their arms for the first time in quite a while, and that was more than enough.

 

And even with many more breaks from studying, Cas passed his tests, actually doing even better than usual. Though when Dean mentioned it smugly, Cas denied it as coincidence. But that time around, finals week was amazingly better for the two of them.

 

And then they only had one year of school left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is the product of my procrastination on a giant paper i have to write. Enjoy it.
> 
> finals suck. Good luck to anyone who needs it.
> 
> LOVE YOU ALL


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY I'M BACK
> 
> Sorry I've been so long. I've been so busy, ahhh! But I'm on break now, and I have the willpower to write again! Yay!
> 
> SO enjoy this longer chapter that is entirely out of season. 
> 
> Thanks!

The next semester of school flew by quickly, and before they knew it, school was out and it was summer vacation. They didn't really have any plans for the summer, and were counting on staying at home and being lazy. But those plans were interrupted about a week after school got out when there was a loud pounding knock at their door.

Cas opened it, and was immediately surprised by having an armful if whoever had been on the other side of the door. "Wha-?" He gasped a little, staggering back. It took him a moment to recognize the laughter and the red hair in his face. "Charlie!" He exclaimed, half overjoyed, half annoyed.

“Cas!" The redhead answered enthusiastically, pulling back, but keeping her hands on his shoulders.   
"Who's-?" Dean walked into the room, his face breaking out into a grin when he saw Charlie. She grinned too, and released Cas so that she could envelop Dean in an equally bone crushing hug. "Good to see you, milady," Dean grunted.  
Charlie laughed some more, finally letting go and standing back, as if to look harder at them. Her face turned accusing, "I haven't seen you guys in forever! It's literally been _over a year_!" She glared at them, and the two boys looked apologetic. "This is not okay. I need my fellow geeks! I really missed you guys!" She had her hands on her hips and everything.   
"Sorry, Charlie," Cas said sincerely, with a peace offering smile.  
She sniffed and looked away, "I should think so." Then she looked back at them out of the corner of her eye. "Now is this any way to treat your queen? Show me around your house, my dears."  
"Oh that's right you haven't been here before," Cas recalled, beginning to walk out of the room. "Well come on then."  
"Uh, Charlie?" Dean asked as they left the entry hallway and entered the apartment itself.   
"Yes?" She asked sweetly, grabbing his hand.  
Dean rolled his eyes. "Not that I mind, but how do you even know where we live? I'm pretty sure I never told you the address."  
Charlie laughed once more, and told him with a wink, "A queen never reveals her secrets." And that was as much as Dean could get out of her on the subject. Sometimes her computer skills were a little scary. He tried not to think about it too much.  
They showed her around the apartment and introduced her to Annabelle, catching up and talking and joking and laughing along the way, until they sat at the kitchen table with cans of soda clutched in their hands, the cat curled in Charlie's lap, and Dean asked, "so Charlie, what brings you to visit us like this?"  
She opened her eyes so wide her expression turned fake. "What, you don't believe I just came here out of the goodness of my heart?"  
"No," they both said dryly.  
"Fine," she sighed, "I do have ulterior motives. But they're good, I promise." They raised their eyebrows but she continued. "Do you have any plans for this summer?"  
Dean and Cas glanced at each other. "No, not really," Dean answered, looking back to their guest.  
"Awesome!" Charlie clapped her hands together. "Well then pack a bag, boys, you're coming with me!"  
There wasn't much point in resisting her, especially when they had no good reason to and were actually intrigued by what she might have planned, so it wasn't much later that they were loading a medium sized bag each, which she had helped them pack, into the back of Charlie's little car. They had left Annabelle with a big dish of food and another of water, knowing she would be fine like that for the week and a half Charlie told them they would be gone. They would have a friend check up on her.

Charlie still wouldn't tell them where exactly they were going, but she had made sure that swimsuits and clothes for warm weather were stuffed into their bags, so they had a few pretty valid guesses.

Cas had called shotgun, much to Dean's dismay, and so Dean was stuck in the back for the many hours of the trip. But he found it wasn't too bad. He could pester Cas pretty well like this. He played with his hair and wrapped his arms around the seat and rubbed his shoulders (that was less pestering and more of the opposite, but still). He scooted to the middle so he could lean forward in between Cas and Charlie, which worked pretty well too. But they wouldn't let him touch the radio or the music controls, a fact about which he never ceased complaining about.

 

 

After quite a lot of driving, several hours, five rest stops, and sixteen snack breaks (thanks to Dean’s insatiable stomach), Charlie finally pulled to a stop. Dean had fallen asleep only a little before, and was sprawled across the back of the car seat. His head was resting on the back of the chair, mouth wide open and emanating a slight snore. His arms were spread out, one across his stomach and the other around the middle headrest. One leg was curled up on the seat, the other stretched out and almost underneath Cas’s chair.

Frankly he looked adorable, at least to Cas, who had made sure to snap a couple of pictures as soon as he noticed the ceaseless chatter and complaints wane into calm breathing. He’d pointed out Dean’s ridiculous position to Charlie, and the two had laughed about it quietly for a minute, before taking a picture and leaving Dean to it.

Once they stopped, Charlie and Cas climbed out of the car and began to stretch. Dean showed no signs of stirring, just kept sleeping on, and Cas sighed affectionately. Trust Dean to fall asleep at the wrong time. So he left him for a moment to look around at where they had arrived, and gasped as he placed the smell that had hit him as soon as he stepped out of the car.

The smell of saltwater was filling his nose, there was wet breeze in his hair, and the sun glinted slightly off of the waves that rolled lazily about a hundred yards away onto a smooth beach.

“Charlie,” he turned to her, eyes wide, “this is,”

“I know, I’m awesome,” she said, and grinned at him softly. “I knew you guys always wanted to go, and I figured we would make a good surprise trip out of it.

“Thank you,” Cas smiled, taking in another deep breath until his lungs couldn’t hold anymore, and letting it out slowly, savoring the new and odd smell. Then he remembered Dean, who was still dozing in the car, and turned around.

Charlie just nodded knowingly as Cas opened the door, and turned away to watch the sea.

Cas looked down at Dean, debating on how to wake him up. He could be boring, shake his shoulder, or maybe rude? That might be fun, but Cas was feeling light and giddy and happy, and so instead he bent down and climbed into the car, carefully arranging himself so that he crouched over Dean in the tiny backseat.

Dean was warm, a contrast to the cool sea air swirling around them, and his breath puffed softly onto Cas’s face. Cas smiled and bent down slightly, to brush his lips on Dean’s neck softly. He brought himself down to sit, and wrapped one arm around Dean’s back. Dean shivered slightly at the tickle of Cas’s lips, and Cas decided to kiss him. So he did, covering Dean’s face and lips with a series of slow feather light kisses that became more substantial as Dean woke and participated, catching Cas’s lips with his own and effectively stopping their fluttering.

“Hey,” Dean said, his voice soft and gravelly from sleep.

“Good morning,” Cas laughed, pulling away.

Dean chased him a little with a noise of complaint, and was soon standing outside the car with a laughing Cas in his arms, yawning into his boyfriend’s neck.

“You smell weird,” Dean stated, not lifting his head.

Cas scrunched his eyebrows, mildly offended until he remembered where they were. “Not me,” he laughed. “Look at where we are!”

With a sigh, Dean lifted his head and turned towards where the soft sound of waves was coming from, and all traces of sleepiness momentarily vanished as he took it all in. Cas watched the same thing that had happen to him, happen to Dean. he registered the smell, recognized the sound, and squinted at the light that was now a sunset shining off the gentle lapping water.

“A beach,” he said simply, a not unhappy note of surprise in his voice.

“Yeah,” Cas agreed, snaking an arm around Dean and pulling him closer as they looked out across the water and Charlie looked back at them with a bemused smile. “Charlie took us to the beach.”

 

 

The pains and exhaustion of travel were forgotten in the excitement that soon ensued, and it wasn’t long before the three of them were down on the sand, chasing each other and laughing with their pants rolled up to their knees and sand between their bare toes. Dean was the first one in the water (though Cas was close behind), but that was really his fault. At least Cas said it was and Dean humored him because it didn’t really matter.

Dean had caught Cas, wrapping his arms around the man and pulling him to a stumbling halt, sand spraying around them and shifting under their feet so that they couldn’t stay upright. They fell to the sand, rolling and still entangled, the wet sand right next to the water sticking to their clothes and getting into a lot of places it probably would be annoying in later. Cas attempted to scramble up, but Dean had a hold on him, and was half pulled to his feet alongside Cas until he tripped on his own feet and the shifting sand and was sent stumbling forward.

Cas fell back down and Dean tumbled right over him, getting a face full of salt water and coming up spluttering, as Cas and Charlie laughed so hard their sides hurt. His face was definitely something to behold, sopping wet and half caked with sand, a glare on it that would have burned except that it had been doused with water and only made him look like a stubborn toddler, and sent the other two into more peals of laughter.

Cas was definitely not expecting it (though he really should have been) when Dean lunged forward and pulled him down into the edge of the waves as well, and Cas let out a surprised yelp as the cold water covered him. He sprang up as quickly as he could, spitting out water and attempting to wipe sand and salt water off of his eyes with a hand that was even dirtier than his face. His smoldering glare was also drenched and pathetic, and Dean couldn’t help the laughter than came out, despite the fact that he was supposed to be mad.

Cas narrowed his eyes, and Dean knew what was coming a split second before it happened. He tried to get out of the way, but the water hindered his movements, and only helped to bring him down as Cas landed on top of him. They were inly in water that came up to their ankles and surged up to their knees, but as they tumbled and fought and wrestled in the water, they got deeper, until they were treading water and splashing miniature waves in each other’s faces. They stopped for a moment, panting, and grinning at each other, when they noticed Charlie back on the beach, laughing her ass off at the two of them.

That was when the mini war ended and they joined sides, locking eyes and smiling as an unspoken agreement passed between them. Then, at the same time, they began to swim quickly back to the shore. It wasn’t far, and Charlie didn’t notice until they were splashing noisily out of the sea. She got up quickly from her dry spot in the sand where she had been sitting, and started to run with a little shriek away from the two of them.

But even drenched and tired, Dean and Cas caught her quickly and it wasn’t long before all three of them were soaking wet and playing in the water like little kids, and having the time of their lives doing it.

Around them was when the sun finally sank the rest of the way behind the horizon, stealing the streaks of pink and red an orange from the sunset out of the water, and leaving the sea black. They were thoroughly exhausted now, and the cold night breeze, without the warmth of the sun, sent shivers through their bones.

“We should get dry and warm,” Cas said, through the sudden chattering of his teeth.

Dean nodded, wrapping his arm around Cas and stating to walk back up to the car. Charlie grabbed onto his arm and the three of them huddled together as they walked back, their feet poked softly by the sand and rucks underneath.

At the car, Charlie pulled some towels from her trunk, and ordered them to dry and dust off as best they could. They complied quietly, dusting sand from each other’s still wet hair and shaking sand/water heavy pant legs. When they had clean up to the best of their ability, which still wasn’t very good, they piled in the car, sitting on the towels to save Charlie’s little car and trying not to shed sand. Dean vowed to himself to never bring his baby to the beach. He shuddered to even imagine getting all this sand all over her.

The two boys sat huddled in the back, for once both wanting shotgun, and Charlie drove them to the nearest little motel that was in sufficient shape, her car speeding quietly over the black roads. When they got there, they checked in with minimal words into two small rooms with one bed each, and hauled their bags into their rooms with soft contented goodnights.

They tracked sand and dripped water into the room, and Cas took Dean’s bag as Dean went to have the first shower. He dropped both the bags on the floor and plopped himself won into a chair, too tired to care about the water he got onto it.

The warm water soothed Dean’s shivers, and he wanted to stay in forever, but knew Cas was cold too. They probably should have just showered together, but he supposed both of them were too tired to care. So Dean finished quickly, washing all the sand and salt down the drain and toweling off as soon as he got out. The mirror was still fogged as he opened the bathroom door, letting the steam out and the rush of cold air. He shivered again, and called out, “Cas?”

But Cas it seeped had fallen asleep in the chai in the few short minutes Dean had been showering. Towel wrapped around himself, Dean jostled Cas shoulder and woke him with a light kiss on the nose. Cas groaned a little, but got up when Dean said, “Your turn. Don’t fall asleep in there.”

As Cas showered, Dean opened up his bag and pulled out some clothes. With a happy sigh, he pulled on a soft shirt and some boxers, welcoming the feel of fabric that was not rough and heavy with the ocean. Not wanting to waste any more time of brain function, Dean flopped down onto the bed, rolling himself in the blankets and completely messing up the covers.

He was almost asleep when Cas came out of the bathroom, hair wet and mussed from the towel. Dean listened to him rustle through the bags, and to the somehow familiar sounds of Cas getting dressed. But Cas did not lay down beside him, instead, there was a sharp prod to Dean’s backside, and he heard Cas say, “Dean, you need to brush your teeth still.”

Dean answered with a groan of, “no.”

“I’m not kissing your morning breath,” Cas told him, knowing he had won already, and Dean rolled out of the bed with a few choice complaints, only unraveling himself from the blankets after they were on the floor, then shuffled to his bag, pulled out his toothbrush and the toothpaste, and followed Cas into the bathroom once more to brush his teeth.

He did it as quickly as possible, and got back to bed, already shivering at the loss of warmth that the blankets had given him. Cas followed him this time, pulling the blankets off the floor and spreading them, with Dean’s assistance, across the two of them. They curled up together in the bed, which squeaked slightly, pushing their cold feet and legs together, the chilly skin seeking warmth, and both pulled the other as close as they could come, falling asleep almost instantly as soon as they were comfortably, happily, and warmly entwined.

 

 

They spent the next week or so in the small beachside town. The seafood was excellent, and there was a quaint little pie shop that Dean sang the praises of, to the amusement of his two companions. There wasn’t really a whole lot to do, but that was the beauty of it. The reason for vacation is to get away, to remove yourself from the world of responsibilities and activities, and to not make yourself be doing something all the time. It let out more stress than they realized that they had, and Dean felt lighter than he had in a while.

School had kinda been grating on all of them, and lazy days at the beach and being touristy in all the little shops was a great feeling. They were pretty broke, being college students, and were already paying for the motel, but they did manage t spring for a few souvenirs. Cas got a large hat that Dean made fun of him for, at least until Dean’s face was pink with sunburn and Cas’s wasn’t, then they could be seen in matching hats. Charlie made sure to get a few good pictures of that one.

Despite the beauty of the place, there surprisingly weren’t too many people there, especially for summertime, and so the beach was never too crowded. There were countless hours spent laying on the towels on the sand, Dean and Cas’s hands entwined. Their eyes were closed, the sun warming their eyelids. Sometimes Charlie was with them, sometimes she could be found at the little beach bar chatting up some girl.

Another gem of a snapshot Charlie managed was Dean with one of those fruity drinks he was always discounting. That one was definitely blackmail material, though she supposed probably had a few to use in return, with all the fun they’d been having

All three of them would probably say it was the most fun week that they had in their lives.

And when their time was over, they all piled back into Charlie’s little (now sandy) car, smiles stuck on their tanned faces. They had sand probably everywhere, their shoulders ached with the sunburn, and their wallets were dangerously depleted, but they were happy, and it was with a bittersweet feeling that they drove back to reality.


	27. Chapter 27

Dean awoke with a feeling of purpose. Today was special. He looked over at Cas, who lay snoring softly next to Dean in the bed, blankets half covering him, with one leg hanging off the side of the bed and an arm wrapped snuggly around Dean. Dean smiled, but gently extricated himself from Cas because this morning would be different. He had things to do and they hinged on Cas not waking up yet.

He couldn’t resist a small kiss to Cas’s forehead as he got up though, and felt his heart warm at the little smile and soft happy sound Cas made when he did it. Once he was out of the bed, Cas rolled over with a groan and Dean froze. But Cas had just wrapped his arms around Dean’s pillow and was still breathing slowly and evenly, with the littlest snore every once and a while that assured Dean that Cas was asleep.

Dean pulled on some pant over his boxers, but didn’t bother with a shirt, as it was still warm and summery. Their air conditioner was just as problematic as their heater, so actually it was a little hot, but Dean didn’t mind so much.

He crept into the kitchen and delved into the fridge. He had made sure they were stoked up for his plan the day before. Normally they were kind of bad at being stocked, but Cas hadn’t really seemed to be suspicious of Dean’s sudden willingness to go to the store. Either way, Dean had the bacon and eggs he was pulling from the fridge as a result.

He did his best not to bang around as he cooked, though the sizzling of the bacon and the clank of the pots couldn’t really be helped. He just hoped Cas wasn’t sleeping too lightly that morning. He normally would stay in bed for several hours on weekends like this, unless Dean made him get up, so Dean figured he was good with his surprise.

He made breakfast quickly, making enough for the both of them to eat plenty, and carefully arranged the food on a tray. He felt a little silly being sappy like this, doing the whole breakfast in bed thing, but then again, to hell with that. He loved Cas way too much to care.

He balanced the plates and the cups of coffee he had made while waiting on the tray and tiptoed into their bedroom. He turned the light on with his elbow, increasing the light in the room from the soft sunlight streaming through the window into something that would wake Cas up.

Cas groaned a little, and as Dean walked forward he saw Cas rubbing his eyes and yawning. He set the food down carefully at the foot of the bed, hopefully far enough away that Cas wouldn’t accidentally kick it, and walked around to the side of the bed.

“Morning Cas!” he said, not too loudly, but making sure that Cas heard him.

Cas made a tired sort of moan and made a noise that probably equated to “no.”

Dean laughed slightly and bent down, kneeling a little on the bed so that he could get Cas up with a kiss. He knew that always worked.

Cas sort of had morning breath, but Dean didn’t really mind right then. It was Cas and he was wonderful.

“Morning,” Cas said back with a lazy grin, finally opening his eyes up to grin at Dean. Then he sniffed, obviously smelling the food, and narrowed his eyes at Dean. “You didn’t-”

“I did.” Dean stated with a big smile. “Happy birthday.”

Cas laughed and sat up, pushing Dean off of him and tucking his legs in. “You know you don’t-”

“Shut up Cas,” Dean interrupted good-naturedly. “You damn well know I do have to and I will, so shut up and eat your stupid breakfast.”

Cas pursed his lips, holding back a smile. “Thank you Dean.”

“’Course.” Dean answered, a little shyly, and then got up to bring the tray of food over. He handed it to Cas and then climbed up next to him on the bed, shoving his feet under the warm blanket and pulling the tray onto his lap.

They ate happily, talking about inconsequential things, smiling and laughing and bumping shoulders, happy to be in the company of the other. At one point, Dean insisted on feeding breakfast to Cas, who rolled his eyes but actually enjoyed it.

Dean gave Cas his little presents then too. They were small for the most part. Cas got a new blue tie, a shiny, silky one that he ran through his hands appreciatively and smiled. He’d had that other one for so long, and he hadn’t worn it as much lately because of how worn out it had been. Dean also gave Cas tickets for them to go to the botanical garden thing that was passing through. There was a bee exhibit, and Cas was practically bouncing off the walls with anticipation already. Dean didn’t bother holding back his laugher. Cas laughed with him. Lastly, Dean had a surprise, something his mom had sent him a few weeks back that he couldn’t help smiling at. It was perfect, he thought, and he bit his lip as he handed Cas the smallish badly wrapped rectangular package.

He smiled at the little gasp Cas let out as the paper fell away and smiled.

“Mom found it in her stuff. And I thought you’d like it.”

Cas touched the picture in the frame, a big smile on his face. “It’s wonderful Dean.”

It was a picture, in black and white, of the two of them in kindergarten. They must have been at Cas’s house, sitting under the tree. They were holding hands and sitting there with the biggest smiles on their faces, the soft dappled light from the tree falling across their faces, sunlight in their hair. They looked carefree and happy, and Dean remembered those days, when life was as simple as, “Me and Cas love each other and we’re best friends and we’re gonna be together forever, of course we’re getting married.” He couldn’t believe he had gotten all this back after losing it for so long.

“Love you, Cas,” he said quietly, laughing as Cas lunged forward to tackle him in a hug, arms around Dean’s neck and hair in his face.

“I love you too,” he kissed Dean then, soft and long, exploring his mouth a little with his, hands hanging onto Dean and sliding under his shirt, just wanting to touch and feel and be closer. They still tasted a little like the food they had already eaten, and the kiss was sweet and heady and wonderful Dean would never want to let go. If it wasn’t for life, and the need for, you know, breathing, Dean would never let go of Cas. He would never stoop kissing him and touching him and holding him because Cas was the world, Cas was everything, and Dean would never get over how lucky he was to have him.

They broke apart softly, and Cas carefully put the framed photo on their bedside table where it would be safe, and they could have their youthful selves there, looking already like they were somehow in love.

They took their time eating breakfast and being lazy in bed, but around lunchtime they figured they should get up, and dragged themselves out of bed and into the shower. Dean had a plan for the rest of Cas’s birthday, but no matter how much Cas bugged him he didn’t tell.

“It’s a surprise, Cas,” he told his boyfriend with a teasing smile.

Cas just folded his arms and glared at Dean, but Dean made sure he didn’t look at him, because otherwise the face and the puppy dog eyes Cas made would definitely have gotten to him.

So it was a still frustrated Cas that Dean dragged cheerfully out to the car and plopped down in the passenger seat.

“Please, Dean?” Cas asked once last time, turning his big shiny pleading eyes on Dean.

Dean deliberately stared out the back window as he backed from the parking space, not meeting Cas’s eyes, a repressed grin on his face. “Nope Cas, not telling you.”

“Hmmph.”

“You’ll find out soon enough anyways.”

As they drove, Cas got a nagging suspicion that was soon confirmed as Dean pulled up and parked the Impala.

“The fair, Dean?” Cas held back a laugh, fighting to keep his straight face.

“Yeah,” Dean grinned, meeting Cas’s eyes. He looked unsure of himself though, “Do, you- um… do you like it? We can go do something else if you want, I mean it’s just your birthday and I know you kind always wanted to go to one and you hadn’t been before and-”

He was cut off by a small kiss pressed to his lips. Cas had only let him go on so long because he had ah dot walk around the car. “It’s wonderful Dean, thank you.”

“Well,” Dean’s cheeks warmed a little, “let’s go then, shall we?”

“Yeah!” Cas was suddenly excited, grabbing Dean’s hand and pulling him along towards the ticket booth. The prices were expensive, as expected, but they bought what seemed like enough and wandered off into the park, hands clasped together tightly and on the lookout for stuff they wanted to do.

Dean pulled on Cas at the same time Cas pulled Dean in the opposite direction, and they both ground to a halt and looked at each other.

“Cotton candy” Dean asked, making a small pleading face and tugging on Cas’s hand just slightly.

“Roller Coaster,” Cas told him with finality, and Dean bit his lip.

He looked up to the top of the roller coaster and winced as a car hurtled down the first drop, a chorus of screams piercing the air. “I dunno Cas, you sure that thing is safe? It looks rickety to me, and it goes pretty high…” he drifted off, staring at the roller coaster.

Cas sighed. He’d forgotten about Dean’s fear of heights and general distrust of the modern. “It’s fine Dean, no one gets hurt on roller coasters.”

“You don’t know that. “ Dean’s scared expression turned to one of suspicion, and he glared at the contraption.

“I do,” Cas told him, staring to walk and drag an unwilling boyfriend along. “And it is my birthday and I want to ride the roller coaster. Please, Dean?”

Dean looked at the face Cas was making, the one he had been avoiding earlier in the day because he knew he couldn’t resist it. The face he knew he would do anything for. And he sighed, admitting defeat. “If I die, I’m not inviting you to my funeral.”

Cas just grinned and began pulling Dean along, almost skipping with excitement, and Dean allowed himself to be wrapped up in that. When Cas was happy, so was Dean, it generally worked like that. He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he and his boyfriend made their way into the line of people for the ride.

It was when they were climbing in that Dean began to have second thoughts. They were near the middle of the ride, not in the front or in the back, and Cas had to shove Dean a little to get him in the seat. He was almost shaking when Cas sat down next to him, and he looked over at Dean with a concerned expression.

“You don’t have to Dean, if you really don’t want to.” Cas held onto Dean’s hand.

Dean gulped and set his jaw. “No, I’m doing this, for you. I can, it’s just a stupid ride anyways.”

And then the ride operator came and pushed their lap bar down and it was too ate anyways.

“Alright, Dean,” Cas said, smiling expectantly as the Car jerked forward a little. Dean squeezed his eyes shut as they began to climb, and he had Cas’s hand in a death-grip.

Cas said nothing as they climbed, just looked out over the smelly sea of people with a look of awe on his face, gently rubbing soothing circles into the back of Dean’s hand with his thumb. But once they got to the top, in the instant before they fell, Cas looked over at Dean. “Open your eyes, Dean. I’ve got you.”

He did. And with a panicked shout from Dean and a yell of joy from Cas, they tipped over the edge and plummeted along the rails. Dean held on and yelled the whole way, but he kept his eyes open, and by the end, his yells sounded less terrified and more like he was having fun. They climbed off with shaking legs and stumbled along together, coming to lean against a fence for a moment to regain their breath.

“Was that so bad?” Cas asked with a smile, bumping his shoulder into Dean.

“Yes,” Dean said, still gasping a little. His voice was a little hoarse, but there was a hint of a smile on his face and Cas knew he hadn’t hated it.

“I felt like I was flying,” Cas said, closing his eyes and leaning his head onto Dean’s shoulder. “It was wonderful. Thank you Dean.”

Cas felt a kiss on his head, and lifted his face to stare at Dean. He looked windswept, his cheeks were flushed and his hair was a mess, and Cas imagined he himself looked rather similar. (he did, and Dean was busy admiring what he dubbed “the sex hair” on Cas, at the same time. Cas pressed small kiss to Dean’s mouth, who returned it and then pulled back with a full grin this time.

“Want some cotton candy now?”

Cas laughed a little at Dean’s insatiable stomach, but he nodded and let Dean pull him off to a booth.

They wandered for a bit more, sharing the cotton candy so that their fingers and faces were blue and pink and sticky. Cas let Dean play one of the games where they rip you off, and Dean actually won a small toy, which he handed proudly to Cas. Cas accepted it happily, and then proceeded to win at the game about three times as big as Dean had. And he smiled happily at the bright red color Dean’s face turned when Cas casually handed him the medium sized stuffed bear.

“It’s supposed to be _your_ birthday,” Dean grumbled, which made Cas laugh and kiss Dean on the cheek as they walked.

“And there’s not much I love more than spending time with you and seeing that look on your face.” Cas laughed a little again, and ruffled the top of the bear’s head, which Dean had clutched in a hug tightly against his chest. It was adorable, really.

They rode a couple more rides, none so big as the roller coaster, but all enough to make Dean grumble.

“Dean,” Cas laughed, “You brought me here, how do you not want to go on any of the rides?”

“Didn’t think about the rides,” Dean grouched good naturedly, following Cas onto the next risk.

When it was getting dark, Cas again put on his best pleading face and managed to get Dean on the Ferris Wheel. They sat next to each other in the little open compartments, each of which perfectly seated two.   
  
Dean ground his teeth and tried to ignore the scraping and lurching that the ride was doing. Instead he focused on Cas next to him, the way Cas’s body fit right in next to his, the warm pressure of Cas’s hand, the pulse of his heart in his wrist under Dean’s fingers. He listened to Cas’s steady, excited breathing over the loud sounds of the ride and the crowd beneath them. And slowly, he relaxed. Not enough to loosen his hold on Cas. He still felt like he was gonna fall, and he wouldn’t want to let go of Cas anyways. He never would. He just felt the knot in his stomach loosen, and allowed his eyelids to drift open.

He breathed in quickly as he took in the sight below him as they circled around. The whole place was lit up with lights. He could see the city in the distance, and there was just a small enough amount of light that he could still see the stars. It was beautiful, and he looked over at Cas in surprise, wincing as the ride caught a little and bumped.

Cas face was lit up, both figuratively and literally. The warm lights from around them lit up his cheeks, the soft glow shining off of his face and through his hair, and only making the look of happiness and pure joy on the man’s face even more breathtaking. Dean couldn’t really help himself (not that he wanted to) and leaned over to kiss Cas on the cheek, imagining he tasted starlight there.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, almost unconsciously.

Cas looked over at him with a smile. “I love you Dean, thank you for this. All of this.”

“Of course Cas. I love you.” And he scooted a little closer, making sure his leg was pressed up against Cas’s closely, their bodies touching all the way from their shoulders to their toes, where their feet were wrapped around each other.

In Cas’s book, it was one of the best birthdays he had ever had. But then again, every day with Dean felt like the best day he’d ever had. He imagined it would always be that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I'm getting really side tracked with just writing endless fluffy adventures, and that I've forgotten a lot of the little things from the beginning. Is there anything I should bring back or talk about that I've forgotten? I should really re read this thing, but it's gotten so long... 0.0
> 
> I do actually have an end in sight though. I don't really know how many people are still reading this, but something biggish is coming and then I'm gonna bring it to a close. At least three more chapters maybe four.
> 
> You'll see, I guess! 
> 
> ALSO, WOO LOOK 50K THIS IS CRAZY!!!
> 
> SO anyways, If there's any suggestions or anything I should do, don't hesitate to let me know. Any and all comments are appreciated, so thank you for reading and sticking with me through my inconsistency! <3 <3


	28. Chapter 28

Dean was extremely nervous. And he knew it was ridiculous, he knew what was going to happen, didn’t he? He knew with all rational thought what the outcome would most likely be. But all the same, he couldn’t stop the flood of doubts from washing over him as he adjusted his tie in the mirror for the umpteenth time.

Cas came up behind him and wound his arms around his boyfriend, causing Dean to jump nervously. Cas rested his chin on Dean’s shoulder and kissed him behind the ear.

“What’s wrong, Dean?”

“Nothing,” Dean answered him. He knew he sounded unconvincing, of course he did. Cas always knew when he was lying, and right then was no exception.

Cas blew air out sharply through his nose, and Dean shivered as is brushed his skin. “You can tell me, Dean.”

“I know, it’s fine, really, I’m fine.” Maybe he was trying to convince himself more than Cas. “Just a bit nervous, I guess?” It turned into a question and Dean flinched internally at his uncertainty. But it seemed to be enough for Cas for the moment, as he made his way in front of Dean and left a small but lingering kiss on his lips.

“You don’t have to be nervous, Dean, it’s just dinner, there’s nothing to be nervous about.” He tugged lightly at Dean’s collar, just playing with it more than fixing it.

Dean blew a slightly shaky breath out of his nose and stared at Cas, letting a smile come onto his face. He felt most of his tension drifting away, like old cobwebs, dissolved by the light and warmth in Cas. “I guess you’re right,” Dean told him with quite a bit more confidence. He managed a genuine smile.

Cas smiled, hearing he difference, and pulled back. “Of course I’m right. Do you want any help with that?” He asked it about Dean’s tie, which he was still fiddling with.

Dean laughed. “Dude, you can’t ever even tie your own right. Look at it.”

Cas glanced down, to find his tie was backwards, yet again. He heaved a sigh. “These infernal things,” he grumbled, attempting to twist the blue piece of fabric around again, and only serving to further mess up the knot.

“Here,” Dean said softly, stepping forward and removing Cas’s hands from the tie. He undid it and swiftly retied it, gently tugging it into place under Cas’s chin, in a perfect knot. He kissed him once again. “There.”

Cas wrapped his arms around Dean and rested his head on his shoulder, sighing and relaxing into his boyfriend’s chest. Dean happily folded Cas up in a hug in return, his arms underneath Cas’s and burying his face in Cas’s hair. He let his eyes fall closed and smiles, letting the last of the tension drain from his shoulders, at least for now.

 

 

Dinner was nice. They went somewhere nice enough, but not to stuffy or uppity, and they had good food. Well of course they did, Dean would never had picked it if they didn’t. Dean was enjoying himself immensely, as he always did with Cas, and maybe a hint of his nerves remained in him, in his slightly too loud laughs and the way his eyes traced every flicker of movement made by the man sitting across from him.

“So why did we do this, really?” Cas asked around the mouthful of pie they were having for dessert. “I know you said you didn’t have a reason, but seriously.” He swallowed. “I want to know.”

“There’s no reason,” Dean answered a tad too quickly, blinking rapidly. “It’s just because, you know? Because I love you.” He smiled big, and then hid himself by taking another monstrous bite of his pie.

Cas narrowed his eyes. Dean even got the head tilt, and he knew Cas wasn’t quite buying it. “I love you too, Dean, and that is why I know exactly when you’re trying to lie to me.”

“Not lying,” but his voice was a bit too high, and he wasn’t meeting Cas’s eyes.

Cas rolled said eyes and shook his head. He seemed to drop it, which was a bit uncharacteristic, but Dean was not really in the condition to notice right then. “I’d better find out.”

 _I really hope you do_ , Dean thought to himself. But on the outside he just smiled down at the table. He rubbed his hands on his pants. They were a little sweaty and shaking ever so slightly. He’d meant to do it already. He actually almost had, a few times during the conversation, but of course he hadn’t. He didn’t know what his problem was, and it felt like there was a hole being eaten through his pocket by the precious cargo it contained. Because sitting oddly in his pocket was a ring. Dean Winchester was planning to propose.

He’d been planning it for a while. He’d never had any doubts about wanting to marry Cas. Sometimes they referred back to that time when they had first decided it, way back in the beginning of kindergarten. Dean planned to make good on that. When he had bought the ring, it had felt less like a decision and more like a step forward. Like he had never had to think about it. And he hadn’t, really. They were almost done with school and he had kinda wanted to wait until they were out, but he jus couldn’t anymore. And tonight was the night.

Well, it was supposed to be. He just couldn’t get the timing right. It felt almost perfect, but like they weren’t there yet. Dean sighed internally and finished off his pie, wondering when he would be able to summon the courage. It was such a simple thing, really. Take box out, open it, maybe one knee, and a little tiny question. But it wasn’t simple, and the question was anything but small. It was so big it got caught in his throat too many times to count.

They made it through dinner uneventfully, and they left hand in hand, walking peacefully back to the car. As they climbed in, Dean glanced over at Cas, whose face was wearing a content smile.

They drove back and parked, walking slowly together back to the apartment door. Dean was angry with himself for chickening out the whole night, and felt a rising sense of bitterness in himself. He wanted it so bad, but he knew it could never happen if he never asked.

On their way back, they passed the sign, the faded letters declaring the place a castle. Cas stopped by it, pulling Dean to a halt next to him, and reached a hand out to touch the side of the sign affectionately.

“What’s up, Cas?” Dean asked curiously, coming up right next to his boyfriend and looping an arm around his middle.

”I just…” Cas stopped and then started again, with a fond little smile. “Whenever we pass this sign, I remember all that time ago when we were in Mrs. Mosely’s class, and she asked us, ‘What is love.’ It’s funny how we knew, even then, huh?” he let his hand fall and leaned into Dean.

“Hmm, yeah,” Dean hummed absently into his hair, wrapping his other arm around Cas and standing more behind him. “I love you.” Something about that moment felt perfect, and Dean knew he could do it. He was about to ask.

Cas twisted in his arms to face Dean, and kissed him. _I love you too,_ it said. But he stopped prematurely and pulled back with the slightest puzzled expression.

“Huh?” Dean asked, a bit dazed.

“There’s something in your pocket and it’s poking me.” Cas wiggled a little, and before Dean knew it, Cas’s hand was closing around the small object in his pocket and pulling it out.

“No Cas, wait! Stop-” Dean attempted to stop him but it was too late and Cas was standing frozen in front of him, holding the little box, eyes riveted on it.

“Dean,” Cas half choked out, mouth falling open slightly. “Oh… oh no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” he took a panicked step back, hands falling to the sides and still clutching the ring box. His eyes began to fill and he gasped.

“Cas, it’s okay, don’t-” Dean took a step forward, reaching for Cas.

“No it’s not okay, I ruined it, I ruined everything!” Cas gasped the words out, taking another small step back and stumbling as his foot hit the curb by the sign. Dean grabbed him by the shoulders so that he didn’t fall, and pulled him in close, scared to feel how Cas was shaking.

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly, rubbing calming circles into Cas’s back. “You didn’t ruin it. Not at all.”

“Yes I have,” Cas hiccupped, leaning his head onto Dean.

Dean shushed him and slipped a hand down to take the box from Cas’s fingers, which had calmed down and were no longer shaking.

“No, you didn’t,” Dean repeated soothingly. “Now, cheer up. I’m trying to propose here.”

Cas laughed at that, and smiled, though there was still an upset air underneath that all. And he still said, “I’m sorry I ruined the surprise and the plan.”

Dean laughed then. “I had already messed up the plan, Cas, don’t worry. And if this hadn’t happened, I probably wouldn’t have ever gotten over my nervousness.”

“You shouldn’t have been nervous.” Cas told him sternly, a loving look in his eyes. His unhappiness with himself evaporated in the face of Dean’s self-doubt. “You know the answer.”

Dean looked up, a hopeful spark in his eye. “Do I?”

“You idiot,” Cas rolled his eyes.

“Well then,” Dean said with a grin, “I better get around to asking then.”

“Yeah, you better,” Cas laughed, all trace of upset from before gone.

“Castiel Novak,” Dean began, smiling at Cas, ring box held behind him, “when I first met you, we barely knew what love was. But I figured it out pretty quick, because that’s what I felt. I learned it from you because I loved you from the minute I saw you. Obviously it was a little different back then, but it ever stopped, and it never weakened. I love you, Cas, with everything I am. Those years we were pulled apart were some of the worst of my life. And I feel like the luckiest person alive because I got back nearly everything that I lost then. I thought I would never have a home again.” He looked down and brought the ring box in front of him, smiling down at it softly, then looked back up into Cas’s eyes, which were shining. “But now I know I will always have a home. You are my home, Cas, you are everything to me. And maybe we don’t have much, maybe we never will. But I don’t care. The castle we used to dream about is wherever we are together. It’s amazing, because you are every one of my dreams, and you have made almost every one true. There’s only one piece of our dream left to fulfil.” With that, Dean dropped down on one knee and opened the ring box, right there in the parking lot of the Castle apartments in front of the sign. “Cas, will you marry me?”

And he looked up into Cas’s eyes as he said it. Cas was smiling down at him in awe, tears from before replaced with new tears, happy this time. They didn’t move for a moment, as if time wanted them to hold still, and all Dean could see was Cas. And then Cas moved, kneeling down in front of Dean and pulling him close, kissing him on the mouth, the taste of his tears salty and a little sweet on their lips.

Cas pulled back and grabbed Dean’s hand, wrapping his fingers around them and the small little box. He smiled and took a big shaky breath. “Yes, Dean, of course I will.”

Dean let out a huff of breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding, and felt his face spreading into a big grin. “I love you so much, Cas.”

“I love you too,” Cas answered, pulling Dean in by the back of the head for another kiss. He pulled back with a frown after a moment. “But I’m freezing and my knees hurt, we should go inside.”

Dean couldn’t help it, he started to laugh. And he kept going as the pulled each other up and dusted off their pants. He was just happy and giddy and so he laughed, Cas joined him in laughing, and they stood there holding onto each other laughing and smiling.

Dean got control of himself. “Hey Cas?”

“Yes Dean?” Cas smiled over at him.

“Give me your hand.”

And Cas did. Dean took his hand, cradling the fingers in his own and pulling the little silver band out of the box. It was nothing fancy, plain on the outside, with a little engraving in the inside that Cas would notice later. He slid it onto Cas’s finger and the both smiled again.

Then Cas shivered and grabbed Dean’s hand, pulling them both to their apartment door and inside, kisses stolen all along the way to warm them up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *INCOHERENT SCREECHING*
> 
> FINALLY RIGHT?
> 
> I'm thinking one chapter left. :3 <3


	29. Chapter 29

Dean was pretty sure he had never been more nervous in his entire life. He groaned and sat down hard in a chair, covering his face with his hands. He felt himself shaking slightly, his stomach fluttered and he had to clench his hands to fists to get them to be still.

He was in a room waiting, before the wedding. And he was having a mini panic attack over it, alone. Sam was out looking after something, Cas was in a separate room, and all their friends were socializing outside.

The plans for the wedding had taken up most of their time at the end of the year, which had interfered with finals a bit, but not too much. So they had finished the school year in a bustle of planning and panicking. But they had graduated. The feeling of it being over was a bit surreal, but the feeling had been swamped in their distraction.

They had wanted a sort of small wedding. Tradition was just a pain in their opinion. So Sam was the best man, and Charlie was the… well they weren’t sure to call it. She objected to maid of honor because neither of them was the bride. But she was there, and helped them with a lot of the other planning.

The place was small, and they had invited their closest friends. So Charlie, Garth, Jo and Ellen, Anna, Missouri, and a few others were there. And of course Mary and Sam and Jess and Chuck were there too. Dean felt a little sad that his dad wasn’t there. John had like Cas, Dean remembered, before their lives had gone to hell. Dean liked to imagine that John would have been proud of him and Cas. But he was gone, nothing to be done about that.

But here they were about to go through with it. And Dean was really happy, so happy he could fly. But he was also so nervous he thought he might explode. He was trying not to hyperventilate when there was a light tap at he door.

“Dean?” a familiar voice whispered.

He was on his feet in a second and pulling the door open.

“Hey Cas,” a silly grin was probably across his face but he didn’t care. He grabbed Cas by the arm and pulled him into the room. “What are you doing here?”

Cas wrapped his arms around Dean. “You’re nervous. I can feel it.”

“No you can’t,” Dean teased, burying his face in Cas’s neck. He already felt the awful nerves and tension draining out of him, the bad feelings insignificant in Cas’s presence.

Cas kissed his cheek. “Well, I know you. And I’m pretty nervous myself.”

Dean pulled back to look at him, and brushed some hair away from Cas’s forehead. “It’ll be alright Cas.”

Cas smiled and Dean felt his heart swell. He was glad that real life wasn’t like the cartoons, where people’s hearts came out of their chests. The thought made him smile wider. “I love you.”

“Love you too Dean,” Cas answered, somehow making the words solemn and light at the same time, a small little half smile gracing his face.

Dean leaned in to kiss him, and they both melted a little under the touch of the other one. Cas had his hands in Dean’s pockets and Dean had his hands in Cas’s hair when the door opened.

“Dean I don’t know where Cas- Cas!” Charlie stood in the doorway, a stern look on her face.

Cas looked at her sheepishly, not moving out of Dean’s arms. “Hey Charlie.”

“I was trying to find you!” Charlie grouched. “You’re not supposed to be here.” They both shot her heart melting puppy dog looks and she rolled her eyes smiling. “Well it’s about to start, so I suggest you fix your hair, and get out there.”

They looked at each other and Dean ran a hand through Cas’s hair as Charlie left the room. “I like it better this way,” Dean grinned.

Cas laughed. “I like you looking rumpled as well, Winchester. But we really should get going.”

Dean felt another shot of nerves go through his stomach, but then he looked at Cas’s smile and he felt himself become calm again.

Dean grinned when he saw Cas’s tie. It was askew again, and he fixed it with a soft smile. “Here we go,” Dean then said with a deep breath.

 

 

And then they were standing there, on the alter, a voice speaking behind them, all Dean could see was Cas’s face, his eyes, his smile, and _holyshittheyweregettingmarried_.

They both reached for the other’s hand at the same time, and their trembling fingers held tightly on to each other. They held onto each other for the rest of the ceremony, and didn’t look away from each other’s eyes.

And then there was the end of the priest talking, there were the rings, they were putting them onto each other’s fingers, and then they were kissing and it all was over. They ignored the cheering from their friends and family behind them and held each other close for probably a little longer than they should of. But they didn’t care.

For the first time, Dean was kissing Castiel Winchester, and it was one of the best feelings in his life.

 

 

Accepting thanks from everyone went over them in a haze. They were holding hands, their rings glinting softly in the light. Dean felt indescribable, he felt light and amazing and nearly high off the feeling in his head. The only thing holding him down, grounding him, was the warm solid presence of Cas next to him, of his hand in Dean’s, and the occasional press of his lips to Dean’s cheek, or his temple, or his hand, or his lips. Everything was Cas and Dean wouldn’t have it any other way.

And when they danced, Dean was in awe, because here was this man in his arms, his _husband._ His _Cas._ And it was so amazing and surreal, Dean barely believed it was his or that he deserved it. But he grinned at Cas, feeling dizzy and giddy and like the whole world was beneath him and Cas. He had Cas and he never needed anything else.

“Angel,” he whispered as they danced, kissing Cas lightly on the forehead.

“Dean,” Cas grinned up at him, and his smile was everything that was right with the world.

“I love you Dean,” Cas whispered against his ear.

“I love you too, Cas,” Dean answered, and held him all the tighter as they moved together, alone on the floor and both entirely absorbed in the other’s eyes, with the whole rest of their lives in front of them like this.

Dean would never have to leave Cas again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD FINAL CHAPTER WHAT THE HOLY HELL  
> I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED  
> THIS CHAPTER WAS AWFUL AND CHEESY AS HELL BUT WHATEVS HOPE YOU ENJOYED
> 
> How the hell did this happen? I was expecting like five chapters and a handful of kudos, not this! But now I've written something about five times as long as anything I have ever done before.  
> THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO COMMENTED OR READ OR LEFT KUDOS ON MY WORK OR ANYTHING I SERIOUSLY LOVE EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU FOR THAT I CAN'T SAY IT ENOUGH OR AS MUCH AS YOU ALL DESERVE BECAUSE IT WOULD LIKE TAKE UP A WHOLE NOTHER 50K FIC SERIOUSLY OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!! And I know I would so not have done as much as I did without the encouragement I got so thank you endlessly for that as well.  
> A big thanks especially to bennycumbercutie, who beta-ed some of the chapters and left me lovely comments in all caps on almost all of them. Love you Kayla. :)  
> I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Seriously, I loved this, I got to get out some of my need for fluffiness, and I smiled a lot more than I would have otherwise without this fic. I literally made myself cry writing this a couple times, and though that's probably a bit lame to cry at your own writing, it happened. heh heh... So thank you for sticking with me when the story changed a lot, I know some people read it because it was about them as ids and I went really far past that, I guess I just sort of wanted to watch my babies grow up, but I hope you still enjoyed. Thank you for the love and comments and everything and just....ugh.... *big squishy hug for all of you*  
> Oooh also, since I don't want to give them up and I don't want it to end (so I'm milking the story, fight me) and I have much more fluff to get out of my system, I'm gonna be writing more and putting it in a sequel. Domestic married destiel is beautiful in my opinion, so.... I hope people want to read it. :3
> 
> AGAIN THANK YOU ALL FOR THIS AHHHHHHHHHHH


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